Chapter 14
Brodie
Brodie strove to hide how everything in him rejected that notion.
Even if he had decided that it wouldn’t be a good idea to have this be anything but a platonic arrangement.
The other night had exposed him – the strength of his desire for her and the speed with which things had escalated – it had freaked him out.
Reminding him all too uncomfortably of the messy dynamic he’d seen between his parents.
Jessica was looking at him. He said, ‘Of course. It would be a purely platonic agreement.’
Did something like disappointment flash across her face? But it was gone. Maybe he’d imagined it because he wanted her to want more than platonic.
He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since the other night. In spite of his better instincts warning him that she was different and that what they’d shared had been unprecedented.
But she’d just stated she had no interest in sex. She’d already told him she thought he was a terrible human being and maybe now she suspected that he did have ulterior motives, otherwise why would she feel like she had to say such a thing?
This had been a huge mistake, he never should have followed his instinct – you mean, dick – he shut out the annoying voice – to come here. ‘Look, Jessica, it was just a suggestion, OK? I thought we could help each other out. Clearly that’s not the case.’
But before Brodie took a step she was saying quickly, ‘It’s Jess, actually. Only my mother calls me Jessica and not in a good way.’
He looked at her warily, but then he took her lead. ‘My full name is Broderick and like you, only my mother uses it. Also in not a good way.’
‘Broderick.’
‘It’s Irish...or maybe Welsh. Some Celtic influence.’
She considered him for a moment and Brodie couldn’t look away from her eyes. They were more brown and gold than green today. He felt like he could look at them for hours.
Then she said, ‘Six months storage and a hefty donation to the charity. Like, at least seven figures.’
Brodie snapped his attention back to the room. Jesus, he was losing focus here. She wasn’t, though. He said, ‘You’re negotiating?’
It reminded him of how direct she’d been during sex. How much he’d liked it. I need you deeper.
She shrugged as if she didn’t care, but he saw something wary in her stance. Maybe she wasn’t as assured as she appeared. Or as immune to the pull he felt.
He countered. ‘Six figures.’
A smile broke over her face and Brodie looked at her mouth.
‘OK.’
He dragged his gaze back up. ‘OK?’
She nodded. He asked, ‘And for that you’ll come to the Cotswolds with me?’
She put out her hand towards him. ‘Yes, you have a deal.’
She’d taken him by surprise and not many people surprised Brodie these days. He curled his fingers around hers. Her hand was small, but strong. Short, practical nails. He recalled how smooth her skin was. Soft. But firm.
She pulled her hand back and Brodie curled his into a fist. Suddenly she didn’t look so sure. Fuck, had she noticed him staring at her like he’d never seen a woman before?
She was avoiding his eye. ‘Look... What happened the other
night...’
His insides curdled at the thought that she might change her mind. He put up a hand. ‘I don’t expect anything more from you than to pretend to be my girlfriend for twenty-four hours.’
‘OK, great, just so we’re clear.’
‘Crystal,’ he said. In case she was worried.
Then he looked her over. She was currently wearing worn jeans that clung lovingly to her long, shapely legs, and a T-shirt with the Live Aid logo.
Pretty cool. But it was so faded that he could see a tantalising glimpse of a.
..crimson? bra underneath. He could imagine her perfect breasts all too easily.
Perfect. Focus. She was wearing a threadbare cardigan on top.
Flat sandals. Hair pulled back in a loose bun.
His first hippyish impression was reinforced.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘There’ll be a dress code of sorts. Smart casual.’ He continued as delicately as he could, ‘I could give you an allowance if you need to get some...options. There will be drinks and dinner on the Saturday evening, usually cocktail attire.’
Jess’s eyes went wide, ‘I’ll bring my best skirt, multicoloured with tassels on the end, and a nice pair of sandals with matching socks.’
It took him a beat to register that she was joking. ‘Ha, ha.’
She said, ‘I can scrub up, don’t worry. My best friend is a designer.’
The fact that she was actually agreeing to this and being decent about it made him feel a lightness he hadn’t felt in some time. He said, ‘Thanks for agreeing to this.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s not like we’re not getting anything out of it.’
Brodie was really tempted to ask her if there wasn’t something more personal in it for her, but that would only invite him to ask the same question of himself and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to go there. Might as well quit while he was winning.