On Dublin Street (31 page)

But before he could respond, the maître d
’
appeared with a huge grin on his face. “Monsieur Carmichael, we have your table waiting, sir.”

“Thank you, David.” Braden pronounced his name with the French pronunciation and I wondered if the guy was really French, or if it was all part of the restaurant
’
s image. The restaurant itself was opulent elegance. It was modern French rococo with black and silver patterned, gilt-framed chairs, deep-red tablecloths, black glass candelabras and clear crystal chandeliers. The restaurant was packed.

David led us through the tables to a cozy one in the east corner, far away from the bar and kitchen access. Like a gentleman, Braden held my seat out for me, and I couldn
’
t remember if anyone had done that before. I was so focused on the gesture and the sensual brush of his fingers against my neck as I sat, that it took me until Braden was also seated and ordering wine, to notice that we were seated at a table for two.

“Where are the others?”

Braden flicked me a casual glance as he took a sip from the cold glass of water the waiter had just poured. “What others?”

What others? I gritted my teeth. “You said this was a business meeting.”

“Yes, but I didn
’
t say what business.”

Oh my God. This was a date! No way. First the bossiness, then the handholding… no. No, no, no. I pushed my chair out, about two seconds from shooting up to my feet when Braden
’
s next words froze me in place.

“You try to leave, I
’
ll tackle you.” Even though he wasn
’
t looking at me when he said it, I could tell he was deadly serious.

I couldn
’
t believe he
’
d tricked me into this. With a sullen expression, I pushed my chair back under the table. “Asshole.”

“Just for that, I expect you to wrap that dirty mouth of yours around my cock tonight.” He narrowed his eyes on me.

I felt the impact of those words as they pebbled my nipples and soaked my panties. Despite my body being completely turned on,
I
was floored. I couldn
’
t believe he
’
d just said that to me in a fancy restaurant where anyone might overhear. “Are you kidding?”

“Babe,” he gave me a look that suggested I was missing the obvious, “I never kid about blowjobs.”

The sound of someone choking brought my head up. Our waiter had descended on us just in time to hear those romantic words and his rosy cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. “Ready to order?” he croaked out.

“Yes,” Braden answered, obviously uncaring he
’
d been overhead. “I
’
ll have the steak, medium-rare.” He smiled softly at me. “What are you having?” He took a swig of water.

He thought he was so cool and funny. “Apparently sausage.”

Braden choked on the water, coughing into his fists, his eyes bright with mirth as he put his glass back on the table.

“Are you okay, sir?” The waiter asked anxiously.

“I
’
m fine, I
’
m fine.” Braden waved the waiter off, his voice a little hoarse as his eyes pinned me to my seat. He shook his head, his grin getting wider by the second.

“What?” I shrugged innocently.

“You
’
re sexy as fuck.”

The waiter was now staring at us openly, his head bobbing between us, waiting on what scandalous thing would be said next. I smiled up at him and closed my menu. “I
’
ll have the steak too. Also medium-rare.”

He took the menus from us and hurried off, probably to tell all the other waiters what he
’
d heard the restaurant owner say to his date. Grimacing, I kept that look on my face when I slid my gaze back to Braden. “You know, the whole point of this arrangement was that you didn
’
t have to buy me a fancy dinner to get laid.”

The sommelier approached with the red wine Braden had ordered and we were both silent as he poured a little out for Braden to taste. Satisfied with it, Braden gestured for the sommelier to proceed. As soon as he was gone, I lifted my glass and took a fortifying sip.

I could feel Braden
’
s eyes burning into me.

“Perhaps this is the
‘
friends
’
part,” he replied softly. “I want to spent time with my friend, Jocelyn.”

While that was nice… “That
’
s how things get complicated.”

“Not if we don
’
t let them.”

He must have seen the doubt on my face because next thing his fingers were on my chin, gently lifting my face to his. “Just try it tonight.”

I could feel his touch like a shiver of ripples across my skin. I
’
d had him inside of me. He
’
d given me quite a number of orgasms. I knew the smell, taste and touch of him. I thought that would be enough. That it would be over. But looking at him, I realized it wasn
’
t anywhere near over. This attraction, this need, whatever the hell it was, it had only just caught fire, and neither of us was ready to call out the fire department just yet. “Okay.”

In response, he brushed his thumb over my mouth and smiled at me with his eyes before letting go.

And then, we were two friends spending time together. We talked about all the usual stuff. Music. Movies. Books. Hobbies. Friends. We made each other laugh. We had fun. But it was all little things. Braden was careful to make sure that he never asked anything he knew I wouldn
’
t answer. And when I stumbled over a question because it related to the past, he cracked a joke and changed the subject. This was a smart man.

We were just finishing up dessert when a sultry voice with an accent as melodic as Ellie
’
s, drifted across our table. “Braden, honey, I thought that was you.”

My eyes lifted to the woman who was standing by our table, and was now dipping down to kiss Braden
’
s cheek, giving him an eyeful of her small but perfectly formed breasts. Her dress was red, daring and as sultry as her voice. She gave me a bright smile as she drank me in.

“Aileen. How are you?”

She grinned and stroked his cheek affectionately. “Better for seeing you.”

Oh hell. I tried not to shift uncomfortably as an inexplicable tightness lodged in my throat. This was an ex-girlfriend. Awkward.

“How
’
s Alan?”

Who the hell was Alan?
Please be her husband
.

“Oh.” She waved the question off with a grimace. “We
’
re separated. I
’
m here with a very charming date.”

Well, go back to him, lady, so we can get on with our date.

Shit! Not a date! Not a date!

Braden smiled and turned around to nod at me. “Aileen, this is Jocelyn.”

“Hi.” I smiled politely, not really sure how to converse with an obvious ex. As I looked over the tall, blonde glamazon, I was convinced more than ever that I was the opposite of Braden
’
s usual type.

Her eyes were assessing as they washed over me. After a second her smile widened as she looked back at Braden. “Finally, a girl who doesn
’
t look like Analise.” She touched his shoulder affectionately again. “I
’
m glad for you.”

“Aileen...” Braden pulled back, his jaw clenching.

Analise? My eyebrows were raised in question. Who was Analise?

“Still sore I see,” Aileen tutted and took a step back. “I guess we all are about spouses. Takes time.” She waited for someone to say something and then, as if suddenly realizing she was intruding on our dinner, she laughed a little embarrassed. “Anyway, I better get back to Roberto. Take care, Braden. It was good to see you. And nice to meet you, Jocelyn.”

“You too,” I murmured, trying to hide the fact that it felt as though someone had rammed the table into my gut. Spouses? I sucked in a breath, a shot of adrenaline kicking my heart into a riot as Aileen sashayed away, having no idea she
’
d caused tension between me and Braden.

My lips felt numb. “Wife?”

“Ex-wife.”

Why did I feel betrayed? That was stupid. Or was it? He
’
d said we were friends. And Ellie… Ellie was my friend, and she hadn
’
t told me Braden had an ex-wife. Did it matter?

You haven
’
t told him anything, Joss.

No, I hadn
’
t. But I also hadn
’
t been married.

“Jocelyn…” Braden sighed, and I lifted my eyes to see his expression was like granite. “I would have told you about Analise eventually.”

I waved him off. “It
’
s none of my business.”

“If that
’
s the case, why do you look shell-shocked?”

“Because I
’
m surprised. I got into this with you because you were a serial dater. Not a one-woman kind of guy.” I touched a hand to my chest. What the hell was that pain in there?

He ran a hand through his hair and then sighed heavily again. The next thing I knew, he had hooked a leg around my chair leg and was pulling me toward him, until our shoulders were almost brushing.

I stared up at him questioningly, lost for a moment in his beautiful eyes.

“I got married when I was twenty-two,” he began softly, quietly, his eyes studying me as he explained. “Her name was Analise. She was an Australian post-grad student. We
’
d only been together a year before I proposed, and we were only married for two. The first nine months were great. The next three months rocky. The last year hell. We fought a lot. Mostly about my inability to let her in,” he whirled his wine glass, dropping his gaze now, “And when I think about it, that was true. Thank fuck.” His eyes came back to me. “The thought of handing her
–
someone as vindictive as her
–
all my personal crap…”

“Like ammunition in her hands,” I murmured, understanding completely.

“Exactly. I believe you work hard to make a marriage work. I didn
’
t want to give up. But one day, not too long before my father passed away, he called me and asked me to check a property we were trying to sell on Dublin Street. Not Ellie and yours,” he added quickly. “He told me there had been a complaint about dripping water in the downstairs flat, so I went along to check.” His jaw clenched. “I didn
’
t find a leak, but I found Analise in bed with a close friend of mine from school. My dad had known. They
’
d been going behind my back for six months.”

I closed my eyes, feeling pain for him echo in my chest. How could anyone do that to him? To
him
? When I opened them, his gaze was soft on me and I reached for his arm, squeezing it consolingly. To my surprise his mouth quirked up into a smile. “It doesn
’
t hurt anymore, Jocelyn. Years of retrospect took away that. What I had with Analise was superficial. A young man
’
s dick leading him astray.”

“You really believe that?”

“I know that.”

I frowned, shaking my head. “Why would you buy a property on Dublin Street again?”

He shrugged. “Analise may have fucked off back to Australia once I divorced her and made sure she left with nothing, but she
’
d still tainted the city I loved. I
’
ve spent the last six years creating new memories all over the city, building over the mess she left behind. The same is true with Dublin Street. The flat you
’
re in was a mess. A shell on a street poisoned with betrayal. I wanted to create something beautiful in place of all the ugliness.”

His words sank inside me so deeply I couldn
’
t breathe. Who was this guy? Was he real?

He lifted his hand to my face, his fingers gliding softly along my jawline, and curving down my neck. I shivered. Yes, he was real.

And for the next three months he was mine.

I stood up abruptly, grabbing my clutch. “Take me back to yours.”

Braden didn
’
t argue. His eyes flared with understanding and he got us the check. We were out of there and in a cab before I knew it.

I had no clue where Braden lived and was surprised to be let out of the cab at the university on the walkway that led down to The Meadows. Situated above a café and a little express supermarket was a modern building hosting luxury apartments. We rode the elevator to the top, and Braden let me inside his duplex penthouse.