Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (21 page)

I walked into the kitchen with a huge smile on my face, something rarely seen before I’d had at least two cups of coffee and an hour of wake-up time.

What a difference a day makes.

Spencer was sitting on the couch, a news show playing softly on the television and his phone in his hand. When he saw me, he dropped everything and strode into the kitchen to snare a morning kiss. “Hey there, chuckles. You’re looking uncharacteristically chipper this morning.”

I swatted his rump and tried to frown but failed miserably. Giving up pretense, I laughed, reaching into the fridge for the breakfast strata I’d put together in preparation for his stay. I set it on the counter and flipped the oven on to preheat, then reached for a coffee cup from the cupboard. “Sorry not to be my usual grumpy self. Blame it on the guy who was snapping photos of my ass last night.”

“Hey, it was only one photo. I still can’t believe I took a picture of your naked ass and pointed out a stretch mark, and it somehow ended up getting me laid four times. I think maybe I’ve been going about this dating thing all wrong.” He winked.

“So, we’re dating now, huh?” I poured my coffee and turned back to him with a smirk. “I guess it makes sense that I would be dating my boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “Can’t argue with logic like that. Unless you’re not into exclusivity, of course.” His voice turned serious for the first time. “Because I meant what I told your asshat ex. I don’t share.”

I wanted to laugh at the asshat remark but the dark, possessive look on his face sobered me. He was serious. And I was his. “I have no problem being exclusive, it’s not like I’ve been playing the field or anything. I should tell you that I’m a bit stingy, though. If you want me, I’m yours, but that’s contingent on you wanting
only
me.” I opened the oven door and slid the strata inside before looking back at him.

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, challenging me. “Are you making demands, sweetheart?”

“When it comes to your loyalty, you’re goddamn right I am.”

In a flash, he was on me. Pinning me against the counter with his body, grinding his hips into me. “You’re laying claim to this?” His erection pressed into my belly.

“Yes.” I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to press back into him. I had a point to make. “And every other part of you. If I’m yours, you’re mine. No exceptions.”

He stepped back, the loss of his body heat leaving me chilled. “Then I’m yours.”

We stood watching each other for a moment, each of us processing what had just transpired between us.

Unless I misunderstood—always a possibility in my under-caffeinated state—we had just become a couple.

Holy shit.

I had a boyfriend.

A hot as fuck, bossy, protective, sweetheart of a boyfriend.

And he was looking at me like he was ready to bend me over that chair for entirely different reasons this morning.

He pointed to my coffee. “Drink up. You’re going to need the caffeine rush for what I have planned. I have to go back home to tend to the house and pack my things for next week. I should probably make an appearance anyway, before Brant calls missing persons. I’ll leave in a few hours and return tomorrow night. That means we have to make this morning count and I plan to spend it giving you what’s yours. Over and over again.”

He walked back to the living room and I started searching for a bigger mug, unable to contain my grin.

Spencer

Later that night
.

HAVEN WAS PACKED.

I sat with Brant in the VIP section we usually reserved for post-project celebrations, watching the crowd. Our server flirted relentlessly with him, taking great care to bend farther than necessary when handing him his drink and laughing a touch too loudly any time he made even the slightest joke.

And sometimes when he hadn’t said a word.

She left us to attend another section and he quirked a brow at me. “She’s getting braver. Last time we were here, she wasn’t this persistent. I might actually give in this time.” I looked at him wryly and he shrugged. “What? At least one of us should be enjoying our time off. What better way than a quick bang in the storage room?” He laughed into his glass and winked at her across the room, egging her on.

I could never tell if he was serious but she sure thought he was. Before long, she was right back in our section. I turned to study the crowd, trying to ignore her giggles as he whispered in her ear. She sounded so fake, putting on a show and working hard at seeming flighty. I hated it when women did that. Don’t dumb yourself down to get attention.

She started giggling again and I cringed. The music was so loud that the bass thumps could jar the fillings from your teeth but somehow that insipid laugh cut right through the noise.

I blinked slowly on a long exhale, forcing myself to focus on something less annoying. Like the way Talia laughed when I let my beard skim the sensitive area below her belly button. I’d stumbled across it totally by accident but it had become one of my favorite spots to focus my attention. Earlier today, whenever she’d gotten close to orgasm I’d stop and nuzzle that area with my beard to break the spell.

She’d gotten more frustrated every time I did it, even more so because she couldn’t fight back her laughter. I kept her walking a fine line between desire and rage for a while before giving in and letting her come.

That woman was so much fun.

I glanced over as our waitress was extricating herself from Brant, giving his ear a quick bite before scurrying off. I raised a brow at him, shaking my head. “Careful. We want to be able to come back here, remember? You ruin this place for us and Clay will kick your ass.”

He sipped his drink and gave me a wry look. “Actually, he’d probably be relieved that someone around here is finding some use for their dick.” He lazily slumped back into the leather couch. “I should have kept that condom I gave you. Looks like you won’t be needing it.”

Looked like he was trying to pick up Clay’s slack while he was gone because this attitude was not the Brant I was used to. I narrowed my eyes at him. “I liked you better when you were the quiet one, asshole. Let’s go back to that. And as far as the condom, if you’re in need I have one on me.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket and tossed a foil packet at his chest a moment later. “But do me a favor and don’t worry about me and my dick. We’re doing just fine without anyone’s supervision.”

He plucked the packet from his shirt and started to slip it in his pocket before his head whipped in my direction. “Wait,” he eyed me suspiciously. “This isn’t the same brand I gave you.”

I met his eye, unblinking. “So?”

He put the condom in his pocket and studied me. “Where did you say you were spending next week?”

“I told you, I’m helping out a friend. They need someone to oversee some work being done and I volunteered. Better than sitting around the house all week, right?”

His expression remained wary. “And which friend is it again?”

“Why does it matter? And since when do you take such an interest, anyway? You’ve been awfully chatty and inquisitive lately.” I gave him the same suspicious stare.

Our non-verbal standoff was interrupted a minute or two later when the waitress walked by and pointedly cleared her throat, drawing Brant’s attention.

She nodded toward the back of the club, never breaking stride.

He returned his gaze to me and pursed his mouth, debating what to do. Clearly, he was expected in that storage room but he was so damned curious about what I was up to that he looked torn. I nearly laughed at the look on his face. To fuck or not to fuck?

What a stupid question.

A second later he realized that himself and stood to follow our overeager server. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll hear about it eventually.” He patted his pocket. “Time to take this thing for a spin.”

I just shook my head, refilled my glass, and settled back in to the couch to wonder how Talia’s night was going.

Talia

MY NIGHT HAD
officially gone to shit.

First, the register drawer had gotten stuck and we had to spend nearly an hour trying to get the bitch to open, then Neil came out to announce that only one side of the damn grill would hold heat.

As if that weren’t stressful enough, Gina had been hounding me all night about Derek and Spencer. If she asked me one more time which one I was going to throw her way, I would choke the piss out of her. I was not in the mood for her antics.

The bartender had noticed the missing bar chair early in the evening and I managed to choke out a quick lie before excusing myself to the office to make sure nothing had been caught by the security cameras. How humiliating would that be?

I didn’t bother checking the footage, the angle of the cameras shouldn’t have caught anything but I deleted everything from the night before just in case. Better safe than Kardashianed.

I sat at my desk and tried to relax my shoulders, which were so tense they were practically touching my ears. The restaurant rarely had nights like these; everything was usually smooth sailing, which had spoiled me, I suppose. This was my safe haven, my place to get away from stress and the pull of sadness that often threatened to overtake me.

My thoughts turned to Spencer for what felt like the millionth time that night, remembering the look on his face when he’d shown me the photo on my phone. He’d been near tears.

A man didn’t react that way to a woman with whom he wasn’t emotionally invested.

The thought made my heart drop and soar at the same time.

I was terrified to let someone in again, I knew what could happen—what
had
happened in the past—but I so wanted to take this chance with him. It felt like maybe, just maybe, this time might be different, this man might be different.

Or I might be in over my head.

Despite my shitty evening, I couldn’t help but smile when I pulled out my phone for the hundredth time to look at the photo Spencer had taken of my leg. And it was my leg, not my ass. He could have included the rounded area of skin just above the stretch mark but had zoomed in far enough to save my modesty.

Though modesty wasn’t really an issue for a woman bent over a stolen—okay, borrowed—bar stool with her bare ass in the air.

I’d left our wonderful prop right where he put it, front and center in the living room so that it would be one of the first things he saw when he got back tomorrow night. We’d gotten a lot of use out of it already, but I was betting he’d be ready to bend me over it again promptly upon his return.

It was bizarre how excited I was for our week-long cohabitation.

From the time we were kids, Ali had been the only person I could tolerate first thing in the morning, and yet Spencer had managed to drag several early-morning conversations out of me without significant injury.

I’d even smiled a time or two before having even one sip of coffee. It was nothing short of miraculous.

Since the restaurant wasn’t open for lunch on Sundays and only had limited openings for the dessert tasting, I had plenty of time in the afternoon to grocery shop and plan meals for the week. It would be nice to cook for someone other than myself for a change.

Okay, technically I cooked for hundreds of people every week but preparing a meal in my own kitchen was something different. Without Ali there the last six months, I’d taken to throwing together small snacks at home and eating at the restaurant. It was convenient but I’d grown bored with it long ago. Spencer’s visit gave me an excuse to exercise my culinary skills with dishes that couldn’t be served at the restaurant.

Of course, the opportunity to cook wasn’t the only reason I was excited but I chose to focus on that aspect of the situation so that I had less time to over think everything else. Like how much I loved waking up with him in my bed...

I smiled down at the photo one last time and pulled up my notebook app, making a quick note to hit the market after visiting Amelia and mentally adding one of her favorite desserts to the week’s menu.

The last thing I did before going back to work was set the photo as my wallpaper on both my lock and home screens to make it easier to see whenever the mood struck, which would probably be every five minutes for the foreseeable future.