Chapter 2
Chapter Two
RIAN
It’s been three years, two weeks and two days since Rebekka Remington rocked the world as I knew it.
Two years, ten months and two weeks since I stood beside my best friend at the altar and watched him marry the woman I wanted.
And I’ve watched him do his utmost to chip away at her spirit and her resolve in that time—while I bleed silently beside her, dying a little more each time he does.
She’s made a huge success of Remington Publishing Ireland. Anthony should be proud. Yet instead, bitterness radiates from him. I can’t work my friend out. Surely, her success equals his success? What does he actually want? Her to fail?
Rebekka is as magnetising tonight as she was three years ago, more so even. Probably because over the past three years, I learnt she’s sassy as well as sexy, articulate and intelligent, and on the rare occasions she laughs—really laughs—it makes my soul soar.
Our eyes lock as she enters the room. My stomach spins like a carousel. Every hair on my neck pricks to attention, every nerve in my body vibrates with awareness of her presence. Every fibre of my being begs me to cross the room, pull her into my chest, and keep her there forever.
But I can’t, because she’s my best friend’s wife.
The best friend who is currently shmoozing some potential investors instead of standing by her side, supporting her, on what is probably one of the biggest nights of her career.
Chemistry pulses in the air between us. She feels it. I know she does. Because every fleeting touch over the past three years has sent us jolting guiltily apart.
The dinners where we’ve brushed hands over the table.
The times I’ve kissed her cheek in what should be a simple greeting, but somehow sets my skin on fire.
It would be odd if I dropped out of Anthony’s life, even though being in it is killing me.
There’s no way to avoid her.
Not when Anthony and I see each other most weeks. Golf. Drinks. Networking.
And deep down, there’s a sick part of me that needs to see her—a part that almost enjoys tormenting myself. I plaster on a smile. Crack a joke. Drink too much whiskey. Lose myself in other women—lots of other women. But every time I close my eyes, it’s her face I see.
Why do I have to be obsessed with the one woman I can never have?
I don’t have to be here tonight. But when the invitation arrived through from my PA, Amy, there was no way I was going to turn down an opportunity to see Rebekka. To be here for her on her big night.
I offer her a small smile, and she raises a hand in silent greeting before turning her attention to the Minister of Culture.
She leans closer to him and says something I can’t make out over the music.
He throws his head back and laughs out loud.
Rebekka has that effect on people. She’s warm, even though her husband is so cold to her.
Speak of the devil, and he appears.
‘Rian.’ Anthony rests his elbow on the bar beside me, turning his back to his wife. I drag my eyes away from her to look at him. Does he have any idea how fucking lucky he is? Probably not. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.’
‘Ah, you know me. I’m not one to turn down the opportunity to drink whiskey and mingle with beautiful women.’
He snorts, signalling the server to fetch him a drink. I don’t miss the way he takes in her tits before looking at her face. The second she turns her back, he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, nodding towards her ass appreciatively.
I bite my tongue.
‘You own a lap dancing bar,’ he reminds me. ‘You can drink whiskey and mingle with beautiful naked women every night of the week.’
‘It’s a gentlemen’s club, one of thirty-six bars and nightclubs I own, as you know.’ I correct him. ‘And I don’t dabble on my own doorstep.’ I learnt the hard way when one of the girls confused sex for love. Since then, I prefer to sleep with strangers.
‘Huh,’ Anthony scoffs. ‘We must get a night at your “gentlemen’s club”.’ He makes quotation marks with his fingers. ‘Soon.’
Anthony has no qualms about paying for a “private dance” —what the women decide to do in the private rooms is entirely up to them.
But every time I see my friend disappearing with another dancer, it twists my stomach.
If Rebekka knows he’s cheated, she turns a blind eye. Would he offer her the same privilege?
I doubt it.
‘Sure.’ I shrug, even though I want to scream at him. Scream that he’s a fucking idiot, and that he has it so much better at home.
My brother Caelon chooses this exact moment to walk in with his wife, Ivy.
Ivy’s an avid reader–mostly romance—Caelon swears it makes her hornier than a teenager at prom.
Over the past couple of years, Rebekka has formed a close friendship with Ivy and my other sisters-in-law, Scarlett and Avery, so I’m not surprised to see them here tonight, but I am fucking grateful. They make a beeline straight for us.
‘Little brother,’ Caelon slaps my back in greeting.
I’m the youngest brother of five, and they take great pleasure reminding me of that.
We have a sister too, Zara, she runs the newest subsidiary of Beckett Enterprises, Beckett Deluxe Design Agency—a hugely successful interior design company.
Zara’s the youngest, but I regularly get called Baby Beckett.
Or little Beckett. Both piss me off more than I’ll ever admit.
Maybe because the woman I’m obsessed with is five years older than me.
‘Great to see you. I thought the place would be packed with women,’ Caelon says.
‘So did I.’ I smirk, immediately falling into my usual default mode–—family joker, class clown, the brother who no one takes seriously.
‘And I’ve told you before, there’s nothing babyish about me.
’ I kiss Ivy’s cheek, leaving my lips a beat too long just to piss Caelon off.
When I do pull back, he’s scowling, but I’m not done yet.
I shoot her a wink, making a show of reaching for the buckle of my belt. ‘Want me to show you?’
Caelon thumps my bicep and shakes his head. ‘Don’t even fucking think about it.’ He’s still pissed about the time I picked her up from his house and took her to lunch. He should be thanking me. Someone had to give him the kick in the ass he needed.
‘Ah, what?’ Ivy plays along. ‘I want to see if it’s true what they say.’
‘What do they say?’ Anthony leans in with a grin.
‘Becketts are blessed.’ Ivy and I chant in unison. She sniggers and I grab my glass of whiskey and raise it in the air with a grin.
Caelon orders a round of drinks, but my eyes keep gravitating towards Rebekka.
She works the crowd with natural grace. Her blonde hair is twisted into one of those elaborate updos she favours, exposing the long, graceful line of her neck.
Silk clings to her curves as she drifts across the room, every sway of her body a torment I can’t look away from.
I never knew it was possible to be jealous of material until I met her.
‘Earth to Rian.’ Ivy waves a hand in front of my face.
‘Sorry, I was—’ I tear my eyes away.
‘I saw what you were doing.’ She cocks a perfectly plucked eyebrow, then glances at Rebekka. ‘You’ll get yourself in trouble, Baby Beckett.’ She elbows my ribs playfully.
‘Only if I get caught.’ I wink again, and she chuckles, assuming I’m joking.
I am joking, aren’t I?
I laugh it off, but the truth is, I want Rebekka so badly it carves me open.
Guilt sluices through my stomach.
Anthony doesn’t appreciate what he has, but Rebekka is still his wife.
The bell rings, signalling for us to go into the main ballroom for dinner.
Ivy links one arm through mine, and the other through Caelon’s.
Anthony downs his drink and places the glass on the bar.
‘Rebekka’s speech is up first.’ He rolls his eyes.
‘I’m going to need a few more of those to survive it. ’ He looks pointedly at his glass.
We’ve known each other since we were three years old, but sometimes I wonder if I know him at all.
‘There’ll be wine on the table.’ Ivy assures him with a frown. ‘Let’s go support your wife.’ Her blue eyes dart towards me as if to say, ‘Is he always an asshole?’
I shrug. If he was, I only noticed in the last three years.
The trouble is, now I have noticed, I can’t un-notice it.
‘Head in without me.’ I slip my arm from Ivy’s, and I swear Caelon’s locked jaw swings free. ‘I’m going to relieve myself.’ I scan the room for the bathroom sign.
‘Please tell me you’re going for a piss and not a wank,’ Caelon groans.
‘Caelon.’ Ivy smacks his arm playfully, but she’s well accustomed to our brotherly banter at this stage.
‘Just a piss.’ I force a gigantic grin. ‘We’re not all Captain Cum Quicks, and I wouldn’t want to miss the speeches.’
Ivy howls. Caelon and Anthony simply shake their heads as I saunter towards the sign for the toilets.
By the time I finish, the crowd has drifted into the ballroom. There’s only one person left in the hall as I pass through. I freeze as I spot her. Rebekka. She’s staring blankly at the wall like she’s not seeing it at all.
‘Hi.’ I drag a hand through my hair.
She spins on her heels. I watch the column of her throat bob as she swallows. Watch the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips. ‘Rian.’ The way my name falls from them sounds like a sin.
‘Are you okay?’ I step forward, closing the distance between us. The scent of her sultry perfume steals my senses.
She presses the heel of her hand to chest. The charms on her bracelet swish as they brush against each other. ‘I’ll be better when I get my speech over with.’
I stare deep into her green eyes, watching as various emotions drift through them. Nerves. Heat. More nerves. ‘You’ve got this.’
‘How do you know?’ She huffs out a laugh.
‘Because you’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met.’
Her gaze drops to my lips for a second before meeting my eyes again. ‘And we both know you’ve met a lot of women.’
It’s no secret I like women.
What is a secret though, is that every time I slide my cock into one, it’s her I’m imagining.
‘It’s true,’ I shrug with more nonchalance than I feel. ‘So take the compliment when I’m giving it.’
She stares at me for a long beat. ‘Thank you,’ she says finally.
‘You’re also the most beautiful,’ I add, then press a kiss to her cheek.
I shouldn't have done that.
Shouldn’t have kissed her.
Shouldn’t have said those words, but fuck it, I’m going to say more because she deserves to hear them. ‘You look stunning, and you’re going to kill it tonight.’
Her eyes flare as her mouth drops open in a tiny O.
Someone had to tell her.
And I’d bet my life her husband didn’t.
Enough now, Rian.
That’s enough.
I head into the ballroom and take my seat at the table beside Ivy and Caelon, accepting the glass of champagne my brother hands to me. Spotlights beam down onto the stage as Rebekka strides out to welcome everyone.
It’s impossible to tear my eyes from her.
Her speech is as witty, articulate, warm and poignant as is she.
Every single person in the room is utterly captivated by her—every person except one.
I frown, looking at where Anthony sits at a table at the front of the room.
He’s not even trying to hide the fact he’s scrolling on his phone.
Rage bubbles inside my chest. I turn my attention back to Rebekka, who is concluding her speech.
She searches through the sea of faces until her eyes land on mine.
Through the dimness, our eyes connect. The crowd fades.
‘Thank you so much for your support. I appreciate you more than you will ever know.’
Ditto, my darling.
Ditto.
Just a crying shame you’re married to my best friend.