Contingent Page 6

  “Are you nervous?”

  My hands darted to my face, covering it from his view. “Is it obvious?” My fingers parted so I could peek at him.

  He chuckled. “A little. If you’re uncomfortable, I can take you home.”

  “No! No, sorry, I’m fine.” I reached for his lean, muscular arm. “A little anxious, that’s all. It’s been a while since I was on a date.”

  “So, this is a date?” He looked over at me with his big chestnut eyes, and though it was dark in the car I could still make out the caramel swirl that ran across them.

  I chewed on the side of my bottom lip before I spoke. “No, what I meant to say was it’s been a while since I’ve been out.”

  “Your secret is safe with me if you want this to be a date.” I looked over at him again and he winked, removing the awkwardness from the conversation. “It’s two people going out for beer and stale popcorn with a bunch of screaming fans.”

  The ache at the base of my stomach had beads of sweat wanting to form at the back of my neck. Beer. Fuck, I needed to tell Landon I didn’t drink. But to expose my weakness to him wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. Embarrassment crawled up my back. Telling him I was a recovering addict didn’t seem like an appropriate topic to bring up on a first date. Non-date. Whatever this was. Maybe he already knew? My rehab stay wasn’t public knowledge, but Drew’s hearing was. Had he heard about that too? My stomach began to coil as I contemplated the stories he could have read about me.

  My hand threaded through my hair. “I don’t drink.” The words were barely a whisper.

  “Oh.” He looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. I shrugged my shoulders. “But when I first met you at the after party you had a champagne glass in your hand.”

  “You remember that?” I couldn’t mask my shock. When I first met Landon at the after party for Spencer’s fashion show, I thought I was just some girl he was hitting on. At the time, I was flattered. Peyton had walked over to talk to Devon so I’d grasped the champagne flute, wanting something to mask the hurt.

  “I remember everything about you that night. It’s pretty pathetic to say this now, but it was a blow to my ego when your ex wrapped his arms around you and claimed his territory.”

  Peyton had been jealous and wanted to punish me for flirting with another man, so he had taken me in the playroom that night . . .

  I shook the thought from my memory. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He leaned over and laced his fingers through mine. “You’re here with me now on this non-date, where we can have sodas instead of beer.”

  “This non-date is growing on me.” And it was. He had a way of turning an awkward situation, into something I was beginning to anticipate. Even if only for a little bit.

  “Me too.”

  Landon had said we were going to a game. But for the last God only knew how many years I’d avoided any type of sports. Not because I didn’t like it or because I didn’t know anything about it. I never had the time to follow sports. I’d immediately presumed baseball since that’s what he played, but when we walked into Madison Square Garden to watch the Knicks play basketball, a wide smile grew on my face. Though baseball was interesting to watch, there was nothing like yelling with the crowd for an uncalled foul or booing the opponent at the free throw line.

  What was even more exciting was following Landon to our seats. On the floor. At Madison Square Garden. I had never been this close at any sporting event.

  Landon carried the cardboard tray holding our hot dogs and nachos and I held onto our drinks. “Do you like the Knicks?” he shouted over the music that blasted.

  “Does it matter? These are floor seats. We could be watching zoo animals run around and I would enjoy it!”

  The starting line-up was announced for both teams and I became lost in the game. Landon and I shouted at the referee when he was close and high-fived the fans around us when our player dunked on the opponent. By halftime, my throat was hoarse from shouting.

  “I’m going to use the restroom. Do you need anything?”

  “No, I’m good. Do you want me to escort you?” Landon asked.

  I shook my hand at him. “No, I’ll be right back.”

  Waiting in line at the ladies’ room, I felt my phone vibrate in my purse. I fished in my oversized bag until I located it. I had three missed text messages from Gus and a missed call and voicemail from Kennedy.

  Gus: Do you need a bail out call?

  Gus: hello?

  Gus: I guess you’re having a good old time ;) I’m going out with Jon tonight.

  I closed the text message and hit the voicemail button. Kennedy’s voice sprung in my ear. “You are out on a date with Landon Jenkins and I had to find out from Gus! OMG, Braelynn! I want the full report when you get home!”

  When I exited the ladies’ room, Landon was standing against the wall across from me, his arms crossed over his chest. Our eyes met, and the dimple in his cheek appeared with his grin. The butterflies in my stomach began to flap their wings as I crossed to him. Landon extended his arm to me once I was close, placing his hand on my lower back and pulling me flush to him.

  “Hello there.” I placed my hand on his firm chest. Even over his clothing I could feel his chiseled pecs.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d ditched me and left.” His lips were inches from my neck, and his warm breath tickled my skin.

  I tapped my hand on his chest. “No! That’s rude and I wouldn’t leave you without saying anything. I’d have a friend call with an emergency or fake a migraine if that were the case.” I gave him a quick wink.

  Landon leaned in and pressed his soft lips to my cheek. Sudden heat rose from my neck and a tingling sensation burned in my cheeks. My body was being pulled in all sorts of directions. My mind kept yelling at me to let my hair down and enjoy the moment, but my heart shouted for me to stop this before it got serious.

  “Come on,” Landon whispered, his lips still close to mine.

  Lacing our fingers together, he led us back to our seats. Landon’s hand was firm and rough, his skin tough from what he did for a living. Not at all like Peyton’s hands which were soft and tender when he placed them on my skin. Shaking Peyton away from my head, I returned my focus to the game. My heart belonged to Peyton, but I couldn’t deny that my body had feelings for Landon.

  The last two heart-stopping minutes of a basketball game were what I loved most; the point where each team gives it their all. And in this game, they were tied with only thirty-seconds remaining. The stadium was booming, everyone roaring with excitement. The point guard dribbled the ball to the half court mark and tossed it to his open teammate, but a player on the opponents’ team sprinted towards the moving ball, smacking it towards where I sat and then stumbling in our direction.

  I couldn’t move fast enough. My hands darted up to shield my face when Landon shoved his body over mine to block the six–foot–plus athlete who was lurching in our direction. Luckily, his fall missed me and the ball bounced off Landon’s shoulder. When Landon pulled away, the crowd cheered for his chivalry. Laughter erupted between us when our eyes met. I leaned into Landon, resting my head on his shoulder as I tried to catch my breath. Tears of laughter moistened my cheeks.

  “You okay?” he asked with his chest still shaking from his laughter.

  I lifted my head from his chest. “That could have gone really badly.”

  Landon wrapped his arm around my shoulders, bringing me close to his chest. My body went willingly. “You probably wouldn’t have given me a second date if you were stampeded.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Is that a yes to a second date then?” Around us the game continued, but Landon’s low voice near my ear made it impossible to pay attention to the final seconds of the game. The moments that were usually my absolutely favorite suddenly meant nothing to me.

  I lifted my head from his chest, our eyes locking again. “We’ll see.”

  But if I were honest, there would definitel
y be a second date.

  Peyton

  I sat at the bar sipping my whiskey, grateful for an excuse not to go home. Any excuse to ignore my life was a good one. My house was hollow; the ghost of Braelynn haunted me in every corner. Her perfume was still faint on the pillows while I slept. I had dug my own grave by letting her go and forcing her out of my life. And even though I knew it was for her own good, I was now in my own personal hell.

  My life had turned—I had resorted to sitting in a series of random bars, nursing my drink and dreading going home. I ignored everyone around me, including the constant ringing of my phone. Life had a plan for us all and this was mine whether I liked it or not. Work, success and a wife. Yes, you read that right—a wife. Those were the cards I was given.

  A pair of strong hands gripped my shoulders, bringing me out of my deep thoughts. “What are we drinking?” Taylor asked, sliding into the bar stool next to me. It was a late Tuesday night and the bar was emptying out. During the past year, I had avoided bars and lounges because a smoking blonde had me wrapped around her finger. But with the recent change of events, I found myself leaving my office and coming straight here. Taylor enjoyed it. He had his wingman back, as he called me. All I wanted was to drink until reality became a dream.

  Taylor called for the bartender, who brought him a beer. He began talking; I knew this because I heard his voice. My brain, however, was unable to process what he was saying. It had been cursing at me for the past few hours. What the fuck was I thinking when I’d agreed to marry her?

  “Dude!” Taylor pushed on my shoulder. I looked up at him, blinking a couple of times. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Sorry, man, my head is all over the place.”

  “Is it shit with the wedding? Why the fuck did you ask her to marry you?”

  “I didn’t ask her to marry me. It’s complicated and I don’t want to talk about that shit. Or Devon.”

  Taylor threw his hands up. “If you want to keep drinking, be my guest. Uh, excuse me?” Taylor called out to the bartender. “Can we get the game on one of these screens?” I had never been one to follow sports, but Taylor followed everything. I took another sip of my whiskey and looked up at the screen. I couldn’t tell you if it was college basketball or an NBA game, but I watched as the players ran up and down the court. The game toned down the thoughts in my head. By the fourth whiskey, the game helped it all became a blur . . .

  Until Taylor began to speak again.

  “Oh, shit! Isn’t that Braelynn?” The sound of her name had me on alert. I snapped my head up and looked at the empty doorway, but Taylor was tapping my arm and pointing at the screen. “Dude, right there.”

  The slow action instant replay showed which team had thrown the ball out of bounds. I couldn’t see the guy who had blocked her from getting hit, but the camera stayed locked on them until the ball was thrown back in. I picked her out of the crowd, her smile bright as she leaned into the shoulder of the man beside her. She knew who he was. But the basketball player’s large body blocked him from the camera.

  My eyes were glued to the screen, even after the play resumed. “Do you know who she was with?” I asked Taylor.

  “Nah, I didn’t get a good look at his face, but to get court-side seats he has to be someone with power or money.”

  I took a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and tossed it on the counter. Without another word, I left the bar. Taylor shouted for me, but I didn’t look back.

  Louis had parked the car a few steps from her front door. I’d asked him to give me some time. It had been well over an hour since the game ended and she still hadn’t come home. I was beginning to lose my patience when a Mercedes pulled up at her front door. I watched through the back window as the black sedan was put in park and its hazard lights began to blink. She stepped out of the car and the driver’s door swung open. It was dark and I was parked far enough away that I couldn’t see his face.

  Was she dating someone?

  I didn’t let my mind wander for long. I couldn’t complain or object considering what I had done to her without a simple explanation. But still . . .

  She was mine and I would never share her with anyone.

  The tall man trailed behind her to her door. Braelynn repeatedly brushed her fingers through her hair as they spoke. She was nervous. I knew every glance and every nervous tick she had. He stood mere inches in front of her. She stared down at her hand, which I assumed held her keys. She didn’t want him to come in. Or that’s what I kept telling myself.

  She was on a date and like a stalker I was parked in a car, watching her.

  They spoke for a few minutes before he lowered his head and leaned in. He was going to kiss her lips. My lips. I gripped the door handle, ready to jump out of the car and stop them, when her face turned and she gave him her cheek instead. She slid the key into the door as he walked back down towards his car. Once she was inside the house and he was down the street I kicked my car door open. I wasn’t planning on getting out of the car and going to her. I needed to steer clear of her. But I couldn’t stay away. Not when she was seeing someone else.

  I took the steps two at a time, my hands balled into tight fists as I rapped on the door. My breathing grew choppy as she yanked the door back. The light from the living room shone in the doorway, but her bright eyes and smile faded as she looked at me.

  “Haas . . .” Her voice was barely audible.

  As though her body wanted to drown in my misery, her eyelids lowered to half-mast; her head bowed to me. The Dom in me, the one I never knew lived deep in my soul, begged to reign free and claim her.

  To punish her for looking at another man with those eyes.

  Braelynn

  I had managed to have a pleasant night with barely any thoughts of Haas invading my head.

  Once the game was over, Landon and I walked to a Starbucks around the corner from MSG. I didn’t want our night to end. He was the perfect gentleman, even walking me to my door when he dropped me off. But when he leaned in to kiss me, I’d only wished for Haas’s lips. It was pointless to long for someone who had walked out of my life, dragging my heart through the filthy streets of Manhattan, but he was who I wanted. Before Landon’s lips could connect with mine, I’d turned my face, giving him the dreaded cheek instead.

  When I’d closed the door, I clutched my hands over my heart, hoping the loneliness would leave. “Why can’t I forget him?” I whispered softly to the empty house.

  The banging on my door startled me back to reality. I shook the loneliness from my body, prepared to greet Landon. To my surprise, it wasn’t him. Instead, it was as if God had answered my prayers and brought Haas back to me. I exhaled the breath I had trapped in my chest and lowered my head. The ache in my chest reminded me that though my heart wanted him here, my mind knew it was only going to cause me more pain.

  Why was he here? Why now?

  After I’d calmed my breath, I lifted my head to look at him. Anger began to seep into my pores. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?” His hands rested against the door frame, shielding me inside my own safe place. His scent smacked me in the face—the aroma of home. It wafted from his body and wove around mine.

  Trembling with emotions that I couldn’t process all at once, I shook my head. “Haas—”

  “Please.” His husky voice was low, desperate even. I stepped back, allowing him inside my home, inside my heart, yet again.

  Haas strode past me and I closed the door behind him, my heart racing with each passing second. The last time he was here was . . .

  I didn’t let my mind go there. I had to stay strong.

  “What do you need?” I asked, following him further into the living room.

  “Who is he?”

  His words slapped me in the face. He looked so powerful, tall with his wide chest, standing in my quaint living room.

  “What? How do you—?” Had he been watching me?

  “The guy who dropped you off
at your door. The one who tried to kiss you good night. The one you were at the Knicks game with. Who is he?” His voice rang through my house with command. He stepped closer, but I stepped back. I needed to keep my distance.

  “Now you’re stalking me?”

  “Answer me, Lynn.”

  I hated that he demanded an answer from me. Hell, he had a girlfriend. Why did he care if I was on a date?

  My weary voice transformed to match his. If he wanted answers, so did I. “I don’t have to answer to you. Shouldn’t you be out with your girlfriend instead? Go worry about who she is seeing.” There was no point in trying to have this conversation while he was still attached.

  “Lynn—” He whispered my name like he had done when we were in bed together. His fingers gripped my upper arm, pulling me back to him.

  “No, Hass!” I yanked my arm away. “You don’t get to bang on my door demanding to know who I’m seeing. You lost that privilege a long time ago.”

  His fingers laced around my elbow yet again and yanked me towards him, pressing me against the wall this time. My breath, my rage, and my confidence all vanished when my back met the hard plaster. Haas claimed my personal space. My world pivoted back to all things Haas. His breath smelled of liquor and mint, and his scent was intoxicating.

  But I needed to be strong.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, bringing his lips to my face. I turned, staring at the edge of the picture frame a few feet away. I couldn’t lose my stance.

  His hands wove together with mine. Lifting them above my head, he held them against the wall. His lips grazed my skin and I held my breath. “Tell me to stop,” he growled in my ear. His voice was a velvet murmur.

  I couldn’t tell him to stop. My heart felt as if it would pump out of my chest at any second. Asking him to stop was out of the question.

  “Haas . . .”

  “I need to play, Lynn.”

  It was our way.

  His lips pressed against my neck. His tongue licked my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of dampness. My knees weakened as I thought about him crawling over my body.