Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Beckett
“I hate to break it to you,” Grayson says, “but Daisy doesn’t look like a drug dealer or an addict.”
Admittedly, my dreams of catching her with a suitcase full of cocaine and heroin are fading by the day, but I’m still clinging to the slim hope that it will happen. “Looks can be deceiving.”
My gaze drifts to Daisy dancing with some douchebag who is sliding his hands down her back, over the silky fabric clinging to her curves.
My grip on the beer bottle in my hand tightens when he palms her ass and pulls her flush against him. The asshole looks like he’s two seconds from sticking his dick inside her.
“And what about the looks you’ve been giving her all night? Are they deceiving too? Because you look like you’re ready to rip that guy’s head off.”
“She’s drunk and he’s taking advantage. If I need to step in, I will. It has nothing to do with her.” I roll out my shoulders and loosen my grip on the beer bottle before it shatters in my hand. “I would do the same for any female.”
He laughs. “Because you’re known for your chivalry. You can’t even admit it, can you? You like Daisy.”
“I don’t like her. I don’t even want her here.”
“She’s an unwanted temptation,” Grayson says, nodding like he has it all figured out.
And I guess that’s what Daisy is—an unwanted temptation in a silky midnight blue dress trimmed in black lace that looks like a slip or a piece of lingerie.
She’s dancing on her own now—hips swiveling to the thumping bass, arms raised above her head, and there’s something so hypnotic about the way she moves her body, fluid and graceful but with a wild abandon like she’s dancing for the sheer joy of it and isn’t out to impress anyone.
I don’t think Daisy really cares what anyone thinks of her. She is unapologetically herself. She says what she wants and does whatever she damn well pleases, but she draws people into her orbit. Moths to a flame.
Daisy burns so bright you can’t help but notice her.
The only thing that gets me to look away is to remind myself that my father probably felt the same way about Astrid. And look how that turned out.
The Larsson women cast a spell on you and if you’re not careful, you’ll end up signing away every goddamn thing you own just to keep them by your side.
It’s a cautionary tale of what happens when you let your dick call the shots, and I sure as hell won’t be making that mistake.
“Speaking of unwanted temptations, where’s your girlfriend? The girlfriend you specifically told me you were breaking up with,” I add.
Grayson tugs at the collar of his shirt like it’s choking him.
“I wasn’t planning to bring her, but she showed up at my apartment last night. And well, you know how it goes…one thing led to another…” He holds out his arms. “What can I say? I’m just too charming for my own good.”
I laugh. Not with him, at him. “And she somehow talked you into bringing her friend? You could have mentioned you were bringing them.”
“And ruin the surprise? You should know better than that.”
“I hate surprises.” Not that I need to tell him. He already knows that.
For my twenty-first birthday, he threw me a lavish, completely over-the-top surprise party. I didn’t speak to him for two weeks. My worst nightmare is walking into a room filled with people I barely know who jump out and yell, Surprise!
“So what do you think of Lauren?”
Another surprise I didn’t appreciate. Lauren is smart, beautiful, and ambitious, but she’s made it abundantly clear that she’s looking for a relationship. Love and marriage. Two kids and the picket fence. The whole enchilada.
In the span of only a few hours, she mentioned how much she wants kids. Twice.
Unlike Grayson, who always offers the world but ultimately fails to deliver when the relationship starts making him feel claustrophobic, I’m always up front and honest about my intentions, and make it clear that I’m not offering more than a casual hookup.
Get in, get out. No harm, no foul.
No unrealistic expectations. No tears, regrets or false hopes. Both parties get what they want, and no one gets hurt.
But Lauren is obviously looking for more so there’s no point in leading her on.
“You already know what I think,” I tell Grayson. “You probably figured it out on the drive to Sutton Ridge.” Which, of course, was the first time he met Lauren.
“Having trouble coming up with the perfect names for your kids?” This time it’s his turn to laugh.
“You’d better break up with Jessica before she invites you for brunch with the parents and starts shopping for an engagement ring,” I tell him. It’s happened before. “Since you’re ‘too charming for your own good,’” I deadpan.
With a wince, he tugs at his collar again like it’s choking him while my gaze drifts to Daisy and our eyes lock and hold.
I wish I had telepathic powers to read her mind and figure out what game she’s playing.
I lift my brows. I don’t trust you and I want you gone.
She gives me a devious smile. I’m going to walk away with millions and there’s not a thing you can do to stop me.
The sad part is that it’s true. My father’s lawyer used all the right language to ensure there was absolutely nothing I could do to prevent Daisy from getting half of everything.
So, all my talk of cutting her out and making sure she doesn’t get a dime has absolutely no validity.
I don’t even have the upper hand here— she does. If I walk away, she gets everything. If she walks away, I’m completely fucked. Which means that I need her more than she needs me.
If that’s not incentive enough to loathe her very existence, I’m not sure what is.
At some point, Jessica and Lauren return from the restroom and Grayson suggests we head back to the house and work our way through “all that wine in the cellar.”
“Always thinking of others,” I comment dryly.
“Why do you think I sent you a hot tub? We need to christen that baby tonight.” He rubs his hands together in anticipation, and I shudder at the very thought of him “christening” the hot tub.
Good thing I stocked up on chlorine.