- Home
- Jennifer Dawson
Arrogant Bastard Page 9
Arrogant Bastard Read online
Page 9
I clear my throat. “You were a good hire.”
“Not glowing, but I’ll take it.” He meets my eyes, scrubs a hand over his jaw. “We have a good thing here. Everyone is happy. I don’t want to ruin it fucking around with the boss.”
It makes perfect, logical sense. It’s absolutely correct. But it sticks in my sternum that he has better stamina and more control over our attraction than I appear to. He can resist, whereas I seem to melt whenever he touches me. It’s a blow to my ego, but I’m positive I can get over it.
If he wants professional, I’ll give him professional. “I agree. It won’t happen again.”
Why did I have to climb on top of him? Why? I’m so stupid. First rash action I’ve taken in as long as I can remember, and it has to be with him.
I raise a brow. “Is that it?”
He studies me, his expression intent. “I suppose it is.”
I pick up a paper on my desk, an article I meant to read but haven’t. “Great. That’s settled then.”
I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. He just sits there, looking at me.
I keep my attention glued to the words I’m not reading. “Is there something else?”
“Cat.” His voice is soft.
I’m compelled to raise my head. “Yes?”
“I want to set one thing straight.”
“You’ve already made yourself clear.”
Can he just get the hell out of here and leave me in peace? How else can I start working on this whole professional thing and forget how his lips felt against mine? Or how I can still taste him…
He takes a breath and slowly exhales. “You didn’t sexually harass me. I wanted it as much as you did.”
A muscle under my eye twitches. “Again, I apologize for my actions. Let’s just forget about it and start fresh, okay?”
His features flash with something, but I’m not sure what it is. He’s silent for a good thirty seconds, which stretch like an eternity between us, before he nods. “Sounds good. I’d like that.”
“Great.” My voice is far too bright. “Let’s not discuss it again.”
“Glad we cleared the air.”
“Me too.” Now if he would only leave.
Finally, he stands. “Have a good one.”
I offer my most brilliant smile. “You too.”
He vacates my office, leaving the door open so I’m not able to lay my head against my desk. I press my fingers to my temples.
He’s giving me what I want. What’s right. Obviously nothing can come of the attraction. It’s the smart, logical course of action.
Besides, what am I expecting? He works for me. He’s a drifter—a loner with no ties, the last thing I want in a man. Sleeping with him would end badly, and my brothers will kill me if I ruin their businesses because I can’t keep my hormones in check.
This is right; I’m positive of it.
I just wish it didn’t feel like a rejection, like a loss.
I flick the papers in my hand. I’ll get over it.
I doubt either of us will bring it up again. Maybe we had to see, but now that we have, that’s bound to be the end of it.
I’ll focus on business, on doing my job and being the boss.
I haven’t lost anything. Not really.
The following Friday, I’m sitting at my uncle Beau’s bar next to Gabe. This time I’ve been smart and gone with the crowds, instead of to the remote dive where I ran afoul of Caden last week.
Gabe smiles at me. He’s all handsome and shiny, with his dark brown eyes and mussed auburn hair.
He tilts his head. “Things still going well with Caden?”
“Yep.” We are back on the right track. I take a sip of my beer before shrugging. “He’s great. Burt running off is almost a godsend.”
Since the day in my office, Caden and I have kept our distance, speaking only about business. He’s so cool it almost makes me wonder if I imagined the whole thing, like it was some boozy dream.
I should be happy. I’m getting there, but he still affects me more than I want. My saving grace is I’ve been pretty good at hiding it.
He’s been better, though. Not that I’m keeping score, but if he’s hiding his attraction at all, I couldn’t tell.
“Good. I knew you wouldn’t be sorry,” Gabe says, twisting his bottle in his large hand.
I nod. Wyatt, Jackson, and Gwen are so happy I’m getting a little tired of all their raving. It irritates me that Caden’s so much better at managing the farm than I was. It stirs up things I’ve been ignoring for a long time.
Things about my place in my family. My usefulness. My purpose. I do my job well; I’ve worked hard to learn everything I could about the distilling process and the farming for Jackson and Gwen’s restaurant. But I don’t have the same passion that infuses everyone else. I’m going through the motions, while they’re all humming with barely contained excitement.
Reminding me I don’t share whatever’s fueling them. It makes me feel…lonely.
I realize Gabe is watching me, and I plaster a smile to my face. “Thank you again for the recommendation. I’m forever in your debt.”
I’ve become somewhat obsessed with Caden’s past, and have taken to scouring Google, even though I already know he’s a ghost on the internet. It’s fascinating. He’s like a relic from the past. He doesn’t have a smart phone. He’s never even asked for wifi in the cabin where he resides. The only time he appears to use a computer is in his office, and he’s obviously kept his digital life to the barest minimum.
It’s so frustrating. How come you can never find the guy you’re looking for on the internet? What good are all these stalking tools when they don’t give you information on the people you want?
I sigh.
Gabe chuckles. “What’s that for?”
I shrug. “Nothing. Hard week.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Nope.” I point to the dance floor where the bayou music piped through the speakers has people swaying to the beat. “You want to dance?”
“Sure thing, Kit-Cat.” He calls me by the nickname I’ve had since we were twelve. He grabs my hand. “Let’s help you blow off some steam.”
Yes, that’s what I need, since sex is nowhere in my foreseeable future. That didn’t bother me in the slightest before, but now it’s like a dull ache living inside me. Clearly, I’ll have to supplement. Dancing seems as good a sport as any.
I tap my free hand on the bar and yell over to my uncle. “Don’t let anyone steal our spots.”
My uncle Beau, still good looking and rugged at sixty, grins at me. “Would I let anyone do that, girl?”
No, he wouldn’t. He practically raised us after our father took off to parts unknown. He’d protect us at any cost, and a seat at the bar is no exception.
Hands loosely clasped, Gabe and I push past the crowd make our way onto the floor. He swings me into his arms and pulls me close, before leading me into a two-step.
We’ve been dancing together forever, and we find our rhythm without fail. I do my best to lose myself in the music and forget about the man I can’t seem to shake from my thoughts.
One song turns into two, and then three. We sway and twirl around the floor, and the movement feels good, the heat and sweat like a tonic.
I beam at Gabe, rising to tiptoes to kiss him full on the lips, with a loud smack. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
He grips my waist tight, squeezing me. “You too.”
I point over his shoulder. “That redhead has her eye on you.”
He grins, swinging me around and glancing over my head, which isn’t hard, considering my size. “That she does.”
I laugh. “She’s probably already envisioning all the ginger babies you’d have.”
He shudders. “Bite your tongue, woman.”
Neither of us is worried that people might think we’re together, because everyone knows we’re not. And where Gabe is concerned, nothing but a wedding ring o
n his finger would stem the flow of available females. Probably not even then.
Off to the side of Gabe’s left shoulder, a flash catches my eye, and I crane my neck around his broad chest, faltering when I see Caden in my empty spot at the bar.
I lose my step completely, sucking in my breath, unable to help it.
Gabe smooths a palm over my back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I glance around and realize Gwen and Jackson are here too. The three of them must have come together. Why? Someone, somewhere, must hate me, because every time I try to go out to forget about Caden, he shows up.
I mean, I guess it’s not a total stretch, considering there aren’t many options for a raucous Friday night out. But I want to escape him, and it’s impossible!
“So, it’s like that, is it?” Gabe’s voice rips me from the sight.
My brow furrows, and I feign ignorance. “What do you mean?”
He grins down at me. “You’ve got the hots for him.”
I shake my head. “I do not!”
Under Gabe’s scrutiny, I feel a flush bloom hot on my cheeks.
He laughs. “Oh my God, you do.”
“Shut up. I don’t.” Thankfully the song changes to something slow and moody, and I take the opportunity to blot Caden Landry from my vision. I snuggle in close to Gabe, resting my head on his broad, capable chest and closing my eyes.
“This is adorable. You have a crush.”
I smack his chest, keeping my lids shut tight. “Fuck off.”
He traces the path of my spine with his fingers. “Trying to make him jealous, I see.”
No, I’m not. Everyone knows Gabe and I are nothing but friends. I just don’t want to look at Caden for fear I’ll be unable to stop staring.
I already know he changed into fresh jeans and a black knit shirt, the bands tight over his muscled biceps. He’s so damn gorgeous, and it won’t be long until the girls flock to him. He’s new and exciting in a town where not much changes. I can’t blame them; I just don’t want to bear witness to it.
As Scarlett O’Hara would say, with God as my witness, next Friday I am staying locked in my room.
Gabe plays with the ends of my hair, leaning in closer. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
My irritating attraction will never be voiced out loud, to anyone, regardless of how close I am to them. “I’ve got no secrets to tell.”
Gabe kisses the top of my head. “Kit-Cat, you’re a vault just waiting for the right man to come along and crack it open.”
Maybe there’s truth to that, but Caden Landry is not that man and never will be.
Caden
* * *
I’m gripping my beer far tighter than I should, and because I can’t stand the sight of Cat in Gabe Levorn’s arms, I turn away. I know they’re friends and nothing else, but his arms around her strike me as wrong.
Gwen distracts me from the sight, climbing up on the railing lining the bar to lean over and yell at Beau. “We need a table.”
The older man beams at her like he’s a proud father. “Fend for yourself, red. Not a seat open tonight.”
She swivels and drapes herself over Jackson, using him as a prop to survey the crowded room. “Oh, I think Sally in the corner is leaving. She’s waving.”
Jackson slides an arm around her bare stomach. She’s wearing a crop top, short shorts, and cowboy boots.
Jackson tugs the hem down over her navel. “Gwyneth, you’re five seconds away from flashing your tits to the place, and I had enough of that at Mardi Gras.”
She points and yells across the bar. “Save that booth for me, Sally.”
The woman in the back booth, who is apparently Sally, raises her beer. “Sure thing, honey.”
Gwen hops down and grins. “Got us a spot.”
“Course you did, darlin’.” Jackson gives her top another tug and smooths it in place. “Now I can rest easy.”
“Stop exaggerating.” She smacks him across the stomach. “Don’t say you didn’t have a good time.”
“I’m not exaggerating.” Jackson shakes his head at me, but when he speaks, his tone is amused. “We went down with her best friend and husband from Chicago this year. I’ve never gotten so many beads chucked at my head in an effort to get to her.”
I laugh, thankful for the story to divert my attention away from Cat. I take a sip of beer and slide my hand into my pocket. “That so?”
Gwen shrugs. “We might have caused a bit of a stir.”
Jackson raises a brow. “Is that what you call it?”
“Yeah,” Gwen says, her voice full of sass.
Jackson sighs as though he was put out by the whole ordeal. “Unbeknownst to me, her friend Jillian has an exhibitionist streak a mile wide, and Gwen decided it would be fun to catch it. It was a madhouse.”
“I bet.” I don’t know what the friend looks like, but after being around Gwen, I understand she knows how to cause a stir. But it’s not enough of a vision to keep my focus from sliding back to the dance floor.
A muscle in my jaw jumps at Gabe’s hands now low on Cat’s hips. I tear my gaze away to catch him watching me, a lopsided, shit-eating grin on his face. The bastard works his fingers under her top.
I turn away. I’m pretty sure the desire to break his fingers is not a great sign.
I’m not going to look back, not going to watch her. I’ve been a saint, keeping my distance, being professional, and now is not the time to backslide.
Five minutes goes by, and it’s an effort not to see what Cat’s up to, but I manage. I pretend to listen to the conversation, nodding at what seems an appropriate time, even though I have no idea what they’re talking about.
Gwen smiles and waves at someone behind me. “Over here, Cat.”
My muscles tighten at the sound of her name, but somehow I manage not to turn and watch her approach.
But when she comes to stand next to me, I feel her presence, the warmth of her body, that fresh-cut-grass scent. I can’t help looking down at her.
“Caden.” Her voice is cool, and she doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Cat.” I grip my beer tighter.
Cat shifts her attention to Jackson and Gwen. “I didn’t know you guys were coming tonight.”
Gwen tilts her head. “Last-minute decision.”
Cat waves at the bar. “Can you grab my beer?”
Gwen reaches behind her and hands the bottle to Cat. “I got us a seat in the back corner. “You ready?”
Cat glances swiftly at me, a frown on her lips. “Umm… I was thinking of calling it a night.”
Gwen shakes her head. “No, you can’t go home yet. We’re just getting started.”
Another furtive glance. “I’ve got an early morning.”
“Oh, come on. One drink.” Gwen holds her hands together in prayer. “Pretty please?”
Jackson gives his sister a sly grin. “One drink. What’s the worst that can happen?”
My mind flashes to the last bar Cat and I were in, how one drink turned into many, which turned into Cat fucking herself on my fingers. So, yeah, I know what can happen.
Her forehead wrinkles.
Before I can stop myself, I say, “What is the worst that can happen?”
What can I say? I can’t be perfect all the time.
She glares at me. “Fine.”
And just like that, we’re in a U-shaped booth in the back. Gwen and Jackson are pressed up against each other, but Cat and I keep a respectable distance.
Jackson, his arm stretched over the back of the booth behind Gwen, says, “I need you two to do a dry run of the menu before the private event coming up.”
Even though Cat’s not touching me, I can feel the tension seeping from her.
I get an image of her and me sitting in the restaurant at an empty table, candlelight flickering over her skin. Doesn’t seem like a good idea, but the guy is my boss. Since I know my weaknesses, I can at least try to excuse myself. “I know next to nothing ab
out fine dining.”
Jackson shrugs. “Do you know what tastes good and what doesn’t?”
“In theory.”
He laughs. “So you guys come sit down and let us serve you.”
Next to me Cat shifts. “Who else are you going to invite?”
“Just us,” Gwen says, moving closer to Jackson so they’re practically plastered together. “We trust you to be honest in your critique.”
Sounds awful cozy. A little too close for comfort. A little too tempting. I try again. “Maybe someone who knows more about this stuff should do it.”
Cat stiffens, her legs moving away from me. “Gabe will do it.”
“I’ll do what?” I look over to see Gabe with a cute redhead standing next to him.
Now it’s my turn to tense.
Cat pushes her hair from her cheek. “Sit down with me and go over the tasting menu for Gwen and Jackson.”
“Not necessary.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even think to push them back in. “I’ll take care of it.”
Gabe shrugs and points to Cat. “Move over, Kit-Cat.”
Cat sighs, and then she’s close enough that I can smell her clean scent. It wafts up, hitting me full in the face as her hair brushes my arm, and I go a little dizzy.
She frowns at me. “Sorry.”
I shrug. “No worries.”
Gabe and the redhead pile into the booth, making for very close quarters. I could move a bit, but I don’t, because I’m a fucking idiot.
Gabe introduces the woman next to him as Mandy, but before we can engage them in conversation, they immediately start talking. Their flirtation is in full swing.
Gwen smiles at Cat and me. “It’s settled then. Next Friday. Seven o’clock. At the restaurant.”
“Looking forward to it,” I lie. Not that eating a meal prepared by two top chefs isn’t something I’ll enjoy, but an intimate evening with Cat sounds a little like playing with fire.
“Be brutal,” Gwen says.
“Always,” Cat responds as she shifts away from me.
Jackson whispers something in Gwen’s ear, and she turns to him. Then the two couples are deep in conversation, leaving a tension-filled silence for Cat and me.