TWENTY-THREE
GIA PUT HER BACK to the bar to watch and wait for Brogan to materialize at the top of the stairs in the opposite corner.
The moment he appeared, she went toward him, enjoying the sight of him in his crisp tailored suit.
She had claim to that man, that hot, delicious man, temporary, yeah, but it was there.
Their eyes locked on their walk to meet in front of the kitchen island.
“Good evening,” he said.
He did briefly glance Shanna’s way before bowing to kiss her, probably cursing the restraint he had to show in front of her friend. She cursed it. Oh, she was a horrible person.
Gia tried to tempt his mouth to stay a little longer on hers than maybe he’d intended.
“Do you know what my favorite time of the day is?” she asked, putting the Scotch in his hand then freeing the knot in his tie.
Without objecting, he sipped the drink. “First thing in the morning when I bring you hot coffee in bed?”
She grinned and undid the top three buttons of his shirt. “Okay, my second favorite time?”
“When?”
“Right now,” she said, slipping her hands into his shirt and up under his collar to pull him down. “When you come home from work and I get to loosen you up.”
As she nuzzled his mouth, he stroked her hip. “Coming back to you is my favorite time too, Irish.”
The phone rang and she groaned on starting around the island.
“Don’t go anywhere,” she said, sliding her palm across the granite.
“I want to get changed,” he said, monitoring her every step.
“This is probably Julius with a wine question.”
“A wine question?”
Smiling at his confused frown, she picked up the phone, stroking the counter.
“Spurn residence,” she sang, loving the way Brogan’s eyes devoured her even from this distance.
“Gianna.”
Her father’s voice snapped her taut. “Daddy?” she asked. Interest twitched in Brogan’s eye. “Is something wrong?”
Conway Sear never called this number. Like ever.
“No, I called his office,” her father said. “They said Spurn wasn’t there and could be reached here.”
Dipping her head, she focused on the floor, lowering her volume. “You want to talk to Brogan?”
He was ignorant to her apprehension. “Yes, is he there?”
“He literally just walked in the door, but—”
The phone was stolen from her hand: Brogan. He stroked her back and bowed to kiss the corner of her mouth, probably to reassure her. It would take way more than that.
Ah, ah, she curved an arm around him, holding herself against him to prevent him going anywhere. Peering up, hoping to hear as much of the conversation as possible, she needed him near for her sanity.
“Conway,” Brogan said into the handset.
Talking. Talking. What could they possibly have to talk about? The awkward almost truce between them was still fragile. Bram hadn’t made a scene during his birthday party, which was encouraging. She could rely on that peace, right?
Brogan carried on with his conversation, flattening a hand on her back to urge her toward Shanna, effectively dismissing her. Really? Did she really…?
Do as told. Do as told. Those were the words conveyed in his gaze.
Yeah. Yeah.
He turned his back. On a sigh, she went over to her friend at the dining table again.
“I should go,” Shanna whispered, gathering her purse.
“No,” Gia said, still doing her best to listen to the phone conversation going on behind her. Brogan didn’t help at all; damn his discretion. “Stay for dinner.”
“You want to be alone,” Shanna said, her eyes darting back and forth between Gia and the distracted Brogan.
“No! Julius is joining us. He’d appreciate having someone else at the table.”
“Do you ladies need anything?”
Brogan’s voice spun her on the spot.
“You’re done? What did Daddy want?”
“To set up a meeting,” he said.
“What kind of meeting?”
“Business, baby,” he said, “don’t panic.”
Suspicion made her wary. “Why didn’t he call Jenna?”
He took another sip of Scotch. “I’m sleeping with his daughter, he gets to speak to me directly.” Okay, so that was a fair point she couldn’t argue. “She wouldn’t have been able to do anything for him. My schedule is packed this week. He suggested Tuesday night—”
“You can be free Tuesday night,” she said, going a step in the direction of the kitchen.
Brogan wasn’t moved by her optimism. “Tuesday, I have dinner with my girlfriend,” he said. “Have I ever given up that privilege?”
Being said girlfriend she could vouch he hadn’t.
“No,” she admitted, a little deflated. For some reason, it was important to her, now more than ever, that her family and Brogan got along.
“We can make an exception.” It wasn’t like they didn’t have dinner together most every night of the week anyway.
“This is going to be an odd week after all. You’re not usually out of the office almost half the week. ”
“Don’t worry, Irish, I didn’t piss him off. We’ll meet on the jet.”
Gia didn’t follow. “On the jet?”
He nodded. “We’re all going to the same place. We’ll give them a ride and talk on the flight.”
“Jet?” she said. “You have a jet?” His answer was a smirk. Smug as always. So damn sexy. Took a minute, but she got over her surprise. “Why haven’t you taken me anywhere in it?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know, but it would’ve been nice to have been asked.”
“Speaking of extravagant treats,” he said and put down his drink to slip a hand into his pocket. “I have something for you.”
Excited, a bolt of delight fired through her. “For me?” she asked, swerving around the island to go to him. “What is it?”
Losing her smile, the rectangular box he produced from his pocket tensed her. When he put it on the counter and opened it to reveal a diamond pendant, she got a chill.
“More jewels?” she asked, speared by a cold dart.
He started to take it from the box. “It’s thirty carat, round cut—”
“You keep handing out these baubles. All the time with the gifts. Is this what you think of me?” she asked, a churn of disgust in her belly. “I told Jenna I wasn’t interested in this crap and you keep handing it out like candy. You give me something every week, every other day it feels like.”
From his initial surprise, he segued into anger fast. “You’re pissed? What’s the problem? A guy can’t buy his girlfriend a gift?”
Was this his guilt over what might happen at Gault’s sneaking in already?
“I don’t need it,” she said. “What is it you’re apologizing for exactly?”
“Not a damn thing,” he said, snapping the box closed. “I’m with you every damn minute I’m not at the office. Do you think I have other women sniffing around?”
“Oh, I know you have other women sniffing around,” she said. Her boyfriend’s eligibility was obvious every minute of the day and something women liked to remind her of as often as possible. “If it’s not an apology, what is it?”
“A thank you. A token of appreciation for your effort last night.”
Made sense, and she’d have liked a treat, though not one like this. From a man like him, with boundless funds, this generic trinket offended her so much there was no way to appreciate the gesture.
“That’s what you said about the sex last night too,” she snapped.
Shanna came into her peripheral view on the other side of the island. “I… I’m just going to go,” she said and hurried off.
“Great,” Gia said, lifting a hand toward her disappearing friend. “Now you’ve scared away my friend.”
“You started this damn fight, Gia. You could’ve just said thank you and moved on, but no—”
“When something offends me, I say so.” With him she did. “You should know that by now… this has been some education. It proves you haven’t been paying as much attention as I thought!”
“If I want to show my appreciation, that’s what I’m going to do!”
She shoved at the box, sending it skidding across the island. “I don’t need the same glitzy ornaments you’ve bought a hundred different women! I told Jenna the only gift I wanted was your time! I told her a phone call trumped a diamond any day of the week!”
He clenched his jaw. “I call you ten times a day.”
True, he did, and he always took her calls, regardless of what else was going on.
For a guy who hadn’t seen the value of talking to previous girlfriends on the phone, claiming it was a waste of time, he’d made considerable effort for her.
Picking up the phone to her seemed to come naturally to him now.
“Yes, and I love every second we talk! I don’t need frosting like that to keep me happy or to feel appreciated. I feel appreciated.”
“No, you don’t!” he argued. “You don’t feel the way I want you to feel!”
“What the hell does that mean? How do you know how I feel?”
Balling his fist, he smacked the counter. “Because you tell me! You show me in the way you talk, the things you say! I know it, Gia!”
“Good! Maybe you can explain it to me, because I—”
Snatching her arm, he hauled her to him, bringing her up hard against his chest. “You don’t feel how I need you to feel.”
Glaring, she tugged her arm away from his grip. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about how I feel, Mister!”
What was this? Flying off the handle at each other. Why? Feelings. How could he know how she felt? She definitely didn’t know how he felt. Though ignorant of each other’s private thoughts, one thing was undeniable.
In sync with him bending to scoop his hands beneath her thighs, she grabbed his neck and hopped up to coil herself around him.
Their mouths joined with a fury that wasn’t unusual anymore. Their tongues had become so familiar, she knew how to angle, to pull herself in close. Just like he knew the right way to pressure his lips on hers until her pelvis rocked.
“I can’t wait, Irish,” he panted. What was with the talking? She dragged her mouth down to his neck, sucking and licking on him, unable to contain herself. “I can’t. Irish, I can’t wait.”
“Don’t,” she gasped. “Don’t wait. Fuck me, Brogan. Oh, goddamnit, fuck me!”
Marching on, he didn’t bother taking her upstairs to bed, he sat her ass on the edge of the kitchen island and on instinct, the kissing got up to speed quick. Pants were loosened, hands were lost in fabric. Oh, yes, this was going exactly in the right direction. Mmm…