Page 83 of My Fiancé's Brother

“Take a sip.”

I brought my head back up and took several sips of water.

“Sorry,” I said with misery. My eyes burned with tears.

A huge hand touched the back of my neck. He lifted my chin with the other hand and looked at my face.

“Emily,” he said with concern. “What’s going on?”

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. “Nothing.”

His thumb brushed my tear away. He stared at me with concern.

“Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head and avoided his eyes.

He sat down on the gate beside me and pulled me against him so my head nestled against the crook of his arm. I shut my eyes and concentrated on breathing.

I loved this man.

My eyes flew open. Oh, my God. I pushed myself off him. It couldn’t be true. That would be just stupidity on my part. I couldn’t love him. That was just insane. It was such a crazy scary thought I felt a need to escape. I scrambled off the back of the truck. “We should go.”

I avoided his eyes. What if he could see my feelings in my gaze? What if he knew how I felt about him? How could this be happening to me?

“Are you sure you are okay?”

I put my hands over my face. “I'm fine.”

“Emily.”

A shudder went through my body at the sound of him saying my name. Really? Had I really gone and fallen in love with the most unattainable man in the world? There was no way someone like him would ever love me back.

Jackson could never find out how I felt. He was so kind to me. So caring and gentle. And I repaid him by falling in love with him? This probably happened to him all the time. Women threw themselves at him. Fell for him. I was just another casualty under his spell. My stomach felt as hard as a rock. I needed to process this.

I spun around. “We should go.”

I heard the sound of his feet hitting the ground and then the slam of the truck gate being shut. “Okay. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 28

I don’t recommend fallingin love with someone other than your fiancé. It's a heartbreaking affair with no happy ending. Jackson had been nothing but a supportive and caring friend towards me, so to reward him, I spent the next four days avoiding him like he had the plague. It’s kind of like being an addict. You can spend all this time indulging in your addiction, and as long as you tell yourself that you are not in over your head, you can just keep on going. The moment you get truthful and real with yourself, that self-honesty just shatters any illusions you have.

I was a goner. Way past the point of return with Jackson. I mean, the guy would walk into the room, and I could feel my heart accelerate. I was physically incapable of not looking at him when he was near. I dreamt of him, thought of him every moment, and daydreamed about a future that would never happen.

I studiously avoided him. I even went so far as to call the gallery and volunteer to come in and help with displays so that I didn’t have to be home alone with him. I would catch him studying me, and it made me feel sorry for outright pushing him away, but I was so overwhelmed with my feelings for him I couldn’t even deal.

Matt had stopped texting and communicating altogether. I heard him come in. Always late at night, long after I had gone to bed. Where he was going and what he was doing was anyone’s guess, but I didn’t have a clue how to deal with him. So I did what I always did best when things got complicated. I pretended it wasn’t happening and just carried on. That was how I handled it when my parents died. That’s how I handled it when my granny passed. I just sucked it up and acted like everything was fine. It was how I got through everything terrible in my life.

It waslate in the afternoon, and I was sitting on the patio with Chloe listening to music on my iPod. Jackson had gone for a run. I ran upstairs to switch the laundry. I folded the towels from Jackson’s bathroom. I opened the bathroom door and stepped in.

I froze. I observed the scene in slow motion. Jackson was in the shower. Steam swirled around the room. His head was back. His slicked back hair showed off the sharp angular features of his face. His eyes shut as the water pounded over his face. Massive shoulders, huge arms. Washboard stomach that tapered down to…oh, my God, his hand was on his member. And it was hard! He was masturbating. Jackson was masturbating! Frozen, I could not peel my eyes off his hand, wrapped around his aroused hardness, moving on it, up and down. I had never seen the male appendage before in my life, and I was stunned at how big it was. My breath was coming in short gasps. His hand stilled, and I dragged my eyes up to his face. Green eyes were staring at me. Dark and aroused.

The towels and my iPod dropped out of my numb hands, and the earpieces ripped out of my ears. All I could hear was my harsh breathing.

“I'm so sorry,” I breathed. I backed up, hitting my head hard against the half-opened door. Holding the back of my head, I fumbled in a panic to get out. I had just violated his privacy.

“Em,” he said, his voice low.

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