Page 11 of Making It While Faking It
“You can’t talk to her,” I say tightly and then clear my throat.
“Why not?”
I sit on the edge of my desk. In my mind, I see Treasure and I signing the contract. Her standing too damn close. I wanted things from her that I’ve always had complete control over. My hand wanted to touch her perfectly round ass. My lips wanted to brush against the soft skin of her neck. Then there was her sweet scent. I’m probably one of a few men in the world who’s able to control his cock. I tell it when to get hard. I let it get hard. As a strong-minded individual, I mastered the skill. Treasure Grove made me hard, and I couldn’t control it.That spooks the hell out of me. Give me enough time away from her, and I’ll forget she exists.
“The contracts have been signed and submitted,” I say, short of breath. “The suitor can’t be changed, or we risk sinking the deal.”
Orion is watching me, reading me. I remain cool, calm, and collected under the force of his scrutiny.
“When?” he demands to know.
I circle my shoulders—shit, they’re tight. “Three days ago.”
He narrows an eye. “And you’re just now telling me?”
I press my lips tighter. I don’t owe him an explanation. He fucking does what I say—that’s his explanation.
“Did you see her?” he asks, still eyeing me suspiciously.
I bite down hard on my back teeth as hostility rises in my throat. “Sure. Why do you ask?” My tone could freeze lava.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
I don’t say anything.
“She’s got that quality. And yeah, fucking her was everything you imagine it could be. Because I know you imagine it, don’t you?”
My eyes narrow to slits. I’m more angry because he’s right.
Orion lets out a hostile laugh.
“What?” I bark.
My brother coolly rises to his feet. “Nothing. Is that all?”
I don’t know—the way he’s acting unsettles me. He’s planning to do something stupid. He’s in fight mode—the kind where you don’t see him coming.
“Don’t make contact with her, and you know why,” I barely say.
He snorts bitterly and then walks to the doorway but stops before leaving my office. Without facing me, he says, “I never thought you and I would have something in common. But I want her. And I’m going to get her.”
I pound my fist on the top of my desk.Shit. My knuckles sting, but I welcome the pain. “Stay the fuck away from her,” I boom. “If you fuck this up, then you’re going to lose everything, because I’m going to take it all from you.”
He turns, and our eyes are locked and loaded on each other. He knows I mean business. Hell, I know it too.
“I will stop every dollar of the Lord trust from entering your bank account if you ruin this opportunity for us,” I say tightly.
Gradually, the hard look in his eyes diminishes and his mouth slackens. I can tell that he wants to plead his case to have Treasure Grove yet again. I actually feel sorry for him. I’m certain he doesn’t love her, though. Orion is incapable of that. I often wonder where it went wrong with him—why does he insist on being a fuckup?
Regardless of how angry he’s made me, I feel sorry for him. “Orion,” I say, wanting to clean up this tragic moment we’re having. But my voice falters, and he walks out, leaving me and the explanation I’m unable to give him behind.
Reopening Night
TREASURE GROVE
28 DAYS LATER
Tonight is a celebration. The song slithering through the air like a hypnotizing fog is Joon Neon’sI Want More. I haven’t danced all night, because I’ve been making sure my guests are happy and impressed by my restaurant’s new face, new mood, new attitude, and new name. Instead of The Chest of Chelsea or the shortened version that I hated, TCC, it’s now justTreasures. There’s no shortening that name.
