Kiss Me Kate (The English Brothers Book 6) (3 page)

Hailing a cab in front of his apartment building on Monday morning, Étienne Rousseau took a deep, cleansing breath of fresh spring air, and smiled.

After nine weeks in a fiberglass cast from knee to ankle, Étienne was so grateful to be back on his own two feet, he didn’t care that he needed the help of a cane to walk. Finally able to leave his apartment without crutches, he felt re-invigorated, rested and ready to resume—or re-start—his life.

Adding to the figurative spring in his step was the profound relief he felt in being wholly, completely, one hundred percent single for the first time in years. Right before his accident, Étienne's psycho, master manipulator of an ex-girlfriend, Amy Colson, had broken up with him by informing him of her plan to marry a man she’d met in Japan on a recent business trip—a man she claimed to have fallen in love with over the course of two weeks.

And while his five years with Amy hadn’t exactly been a picnic, being dumped so she could suddenly marry someone else—who was, in fact, a total and complete stranger—had hurt.

While dating Amy casually during their senior year at Swarthmore, Étienne wasn’t sold on her as girlfriend material. She texted him too much, was always calling to “check in” and seemed to want to know where he was at all times. Adorable, with an ass to-die-for, she was simply too clingy for Étienne’s taste, and he decided, after dating her for about a month that it was time to cut bait.

However, on the evening he planned to break up with her, Amy had received the terrible news that both of her parents had died in a sudden accident. Such a tragic and unexpected loss had immediately vaulted their relationship from casual to far-more-serious overnight as Amy turned to Étienne for comfort in her grief. Étienne, who was moved by her sadness and somewhat trapped into staying with her, had supported her emotionally through months of deep melancholy. By graduation, their feelings had blossomed into love.

Or so Étienne had thought.

The reality was that Amy and Étienne were dysfunctional from the beginning. The fractured nature of their courtship meant they hadn’t dated long enough for Étienne to get to know Amy very well during the few weeks they dated before her parents’ death, and the Amy he knew after their loss wasn’t the “real” everyday Amy either—she was “grieving” Amy.

Two years into his relationship with her, Étienne could barely remember the cute, clingy, slightly cloying Amy he’d dated in the way beginning. Grieving Amy was giving way to someone else entirely. He didn’t know it, but he was finally getting a chance to meet the “real” Amy.

Suspicious and jealous to an extreme, she’d constantly accuse him of cheating on her, which would lead to emotional fights, tearful break-ups, passionate make-ups and exhausting, persistent, non-stop drama. They’d break up for a week or two, and Étienne would go out with someone else, which Amy would call cheating to anyone who would listen. Meanwhile, her favorite revenge ploy was to sleep over at Stratton English’s apartment during these brief break-ups and then allude to the fabulous, unforgettable night she’d had with him. Étienne’s own jealousy would rise up, hot and possessive, he’d race over to her apartment, they’d fight again, somehow end up fucking again, and wind up together—totally fucked up—yet again.

And still—even though it wasn’t healthy and even though it might never have been real…Amy had belonged to Étienne for so long, he barely knew what life looked like without her. Even though he didn’t
like
her all that much, when he wasn’t with her, he missed her. And when he thought of someone else touching her—like Stratton-fucking-English—he wanted to put his fist through a wall.

So, when Amy announced during one of their famous break-ups that she’d become engaged to a man she’d met on a business trip, whom she’d agreed to marry after an acquaintance of a week, Étienne had been furious and hurt. Invited out for drinks with his brother, Jean Christian, and other friends, Étienne had partied way too hard and tried to drive home drunk, which had led to his car wrapped around a tree and landed him in a fiberglass cast for nine weeks. But during that nine weeks trapped in a cast, trapped at home,
no longer
trapped with Amy? He’d had a unique chance to review his relationship with her. Unsurprisingly, he’d quickly arrived at a place of deep relief.

And now?

Cast-free and Amy-free, Étienne was finally ready to embrace his freedom. He had no one to answer to, no one to account to. He was ready to swing his dick around and see where it landed. But under no circumstances—
none, absolutely none
—would he permit himself to engage in a new
relationship
. After five rollercoaster years of insanity with Amy, Étienne Rousseau was finally free, and that’s exactly how he was going to stay.

Étienne opened the door of the cab and slid across the backseat, giving himself space to spread out his left leg. He gave the driver his office address then cracked his window, enjoying the cool morning air on his cheeks.

Thanks to some poor choices as a jackass teenage lothario and Amy’s delusional rants to her loudmouthed girlfriends, Étienne had been painted in their social circles as a black-hearted, ruthless, philandering cad, so frankly, he didn’t think that remaining single would be much of a challenge. He saw the way women looked at him: they definitely wanted to take him for a spin, but they weren’t anxious to take him home. Fine by him. He’d had enough fucked-up-serious to last a lifetime.

The truth?
he mused, tapping his lips with one tapered index finger as he looked out the window a park dotted with cheerful pink dogwood trees. The truth was that he’d never, not once, cheated on Amy Colson when they were together. When they were broken up, which was multiple times every year due to her crazy accusations, yes, he’d sampled some other goodies, just as she had with Stratton. And he certainly couldn’t help the way women looked at him and came on to him. That wasn’t his fault, and it’s not like he encouraged it, even though it made Amy insanely jealous. Étienne knew he was good-looking, and he could certainly be charming, and his sister, Jax, told him that women swooned for the slight French accent in his and his brother’s speech.

But the truth?

The truth was that Amy was not self-confident enough to be Étienne’s girlfriend, something he would have learned long ago if they’d had the opportunity to date a little longer before her parents’ accident.

The truth was that when Étienne and Amy were together, despite her incessant suspicions and near-constant jealousy, Étienne had been faithful to her.

That was the truth, and frankly, it didn’t matter to Étienne who knew it. Flashing back twelve years in the blink of an eye, his face hardened as he remembered a certain incident with Alex English. He’d learned a long time ago that it was impossible to control what people believed, and there was no sense in spitting into the wind.
He
knew the truth,
and as far as he was concerned, that’s all that mattered.

Arriving in front of his office building, he paid the driver and took his time exiting the cab, careful to balance his weight on the cane before setting forth into the building. Putting thoughts of Amy from his mind for once and for all, he looked forward to seeing what deals Jean Christian and Jax had been cooking up during his recovery. They’d sent home a little work here and there, but anxious not to tire him out, law student Jax had taken over much of the simple legal work in Étienne’s absence.

Pushing the button on the elevator, he was surprised to find his thoughts lingering not on Amy, but on Alex—or more specifically, on the circumstances that had led to the incident with Alex. Though Étienne made an effort not to think about her very often, he couldn’t deny that all these years later, it still hurt to remember Kate English. He’d fucked many since, and spent five years with crazy Amy, but if he was honest, Kate was the one girl who’d ever
really
gotten under his skin. Sometimes he wondered about her—did she ever think of him? Did she ever wish their short affair could have turned into something more? Of course not. After the incident with Alex, he’d never heard from her again.

The elevator door opened suddenly, and Étienne looked up and smiled to see J.C. waiting for him behind glass doors.

“Étienne!” greeted his brother, holding open the door to the offices of the Rousseau Trust as Étienne hobbled from the elevator into the reception area. His leg still ached, but the doctor said he should be using it regularly now that the cast had been removed, so he pushed forward.

“
Merci, Jean Christian
,” he said in their native French before stepping haltingly through the glass door.

Étienne’s brother Jean Christian, or J.C. as he was more well-known among their friends and acquaintances, was five years older than Étienne, and one of his best friends. When their father had passed away a few years ago, they’d started the Rousseau Trust together as a way of investing his vast fortune. Last year, Jax had come on board after making a decision to attend law school. Their other sister, Mad, had gone a completely different direction with her life, and was the Assistant Children’s Librarian at one of the larger branches of the Philadelphia Public Library. Mad didn’t have the stomach for business—of all the Rousseau children, Madeleine Rousseau was the sweetest, kindest, most tender-hearted. Which is why it was no surprise she was standing just behind J.C., grinning at Étienne in welcome.

“How does it feel to be back?” she asked, stepping forward to kiss both of his cheeks and embrace him.

Though he’d just seen Mad at his place for dinner last Friday, her hugs and kisses were always welcome.

“
Tres bien, belle seour
,” he answered, patting her back gently with his free hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came to welcome you back,” she said, dark eyes sparkling.

Étienne narrowed his eyes. “Hey, why do you look so beautiful?”

“Oh.” Mad’s lips parted but she quickly lowered her eyes as her cheeks flushed pink. “I, um, I just—”

“I was right! I thought I smelled a huge ego all the way from my office!” Jax strode into the reception area in a black pencil skirt, hands on her hips, attitude in full swing, and offered Étienne a big smile.

“
Your
office? Don’t you mean mine, little sister?”

J.C. cleared his throat. “We couldn’t have her working in the broom closet.”

“So you gave her my office?”

“Nah,” said Jax, winking at J.C. “He had the kitchenette redesigned as an office for me.”

Étienne whipped his eyes to his brother. “My espresso machine?”

“Safely relocated to your office,” said J.C., chuckling as his phone buzzed in his hand. “I have to take this. I’ll let these two harass you for a while. When you’re settled in, give me a shout so we can talk… new deal starting today and I… uh, I need to get you up to speed.” He clapped Étienne gently on the shoulder as he turned to leave. “Good to have you back, Ten.”

Étienne watched his brother go before turning his attention back to the twins. “So, Mad was just about to tell me—”

Jax reached out and took Étienne’s arm. “Let me help you to your office!”

Étienne gave her a look then turned back to Mad, who picked up her coat from an arm chair and quickly shrugged into it.

“I have to get back to the library,” she said, giving her brother a quick kiss, her cheeks still flaming.

“Already?”

“She’s very important,” said Jax, waving goodbye to Mad and tugging Étienne forward. “Young minds to mold and all that.”

“Dinner on Friday night?” Étienne called after Mad.

“Yes. At J.C.’s place,” she said, stepping into the waiting elevator as the glass door whooshed closed.

He turned back to Jax. “What’s up with her?”

“Boy, you’re dense.”

“Am I?”

“Hells, yes.” Jax cocked her head to the side. “Can’t you tell? She’s in love. Obvi.”

“What? What the hell? With who?”

“Whom,” corrected Jax.

“With
whom
is our baby sister in love?” he asked, realizing that Jax had somehow maneuvered him down the hall to his office.

“I could tell you,” said Jax, “but then I’d have to kill you. And I like you way too much for murder.”

“Why is death on the table?”

“Because you’re not going to like it.”

His next thought was totally irrational—and likely prompted by his early musings—but he couldn’t help it. “One of the goddamned English brothers?”

Jax widened her eyes with glee, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Close, but no cigar. Last I checked, they’re all taken.”

“How did
that
happen?”

“Didn’t you hear? They’re irresistible.”

Étienne scrunched up his face in distaste. “What unlucky girl landed Alex-fucking-English?”

Jax’s face remained impassive, even though Alex English was an accepted villain in their immediate family. She picked a piece of lint off her black cashmere sweater. “He fell hook, line, and sinker for Jessica Winslow. Wedding this summer.”