For Better or Worse (23 page)

“A while,” he said quietly. “There's been no one
but you since I kissed you that day before your brunch.”

She didn't believe him. She hated that she didn't believe him, but she didn't. Couldn't.

“But I
saw
you,” she said. “That night when Trevor came to my place—I only did that because you were with that girl. Kitty.”

“For God's sake, I didn't sleep with Kitty. I thought you knew.” His eyes were dark green as he pulled her closer. “I was playing the same game as you, 4C. I wanted you to see me with her, but I didn't want to
be
with her. And yes, I do actually hear what an ass that makes me,” he said sheepishly.

He frowned and searched her face. “I thought you knew,” he said again.

“How would I know that, Josh? You sleep with everyone.”

“Ouch, 4C.”

“It's true. I mean, I've always known that about you, it's just . . . that woman tonight.”

“Was looking for a repeat of last time we hooked up, yes. I'm not going to lie to you. So you'll have to trust me when I told her I wasn't interested. Okay?”

Heather wanted to believe him. So desperately. It was just . . .

“Heather, I—” His fingers tightened on her arms, and his eyes stared into hers as though trying to tell her something. Begging her to understand.

But she
didn't
understand. Didn't understand any of this.

“You think I've been sleeping around on you?” he asked, not finishing his sentence.

She looked away. “I wasn't sure. I didn't want to ask, because you've been so clear that it's just sex.”

“As have you,” he challenged.

Yes, but that's changing
, her heart cried.

“Fine, you want to do this?” he said, resting his forehead on hers. “I didn't sleep with Kitty that night. I swear it. Not any woman since I kissed you at that fussy brunch of yours. I don't know when I stopped bringing them home, but I do know that it had everything to do with you. It was annoying, but I couldn't quite seem to stop thinking about the girl in 4C.”

Heather's heart leapt, and she slowly lifted her hands to his wrists, wrapping her fingers around his warm, firm flesh, feeling his pulse steady and strong.

Steady like him.

More so than she'd given him credit for.

The truth of the matter was, she loved him, plain and simple.

She loved the annoying neighbor in 4A, who made her laugh and was there for her, and who took her home with him on Thanksgiving so she wouldn't be alone, and who helped her plan a wedding, and not just any wedding, but the wedding of his ex.

He was good.

He was the best.

He was everything.

“Josh—”

“Ten! Nine! Eight . . .”

She jolted a little at the sudden chorus of drunken shouting coming from behind them. The countdown to midnight. She'd all but forgotten that they were at a crowded party, much less that it was New Year's Eve.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice urgent. Maybe a little bit desperate.

“Four, three—”

She shook her head. A reprieve. She had a reprieve from telling him how she felt.

“Two, one. Happy New Year!”

There was a barrage of the noisemakers Seth and Brooke had supplied as “Auld Lang Syne” blared from the sound system, but Heather didn't hear any of it.

Because Josh's mouth was on hers, his lips sweet and tender as they poured a world of meaning into the kiss. Heather didn't know how long they stood there, her arms wrapped around his neck, his around her waist, and it took her several seconds to register that someone was saying her name.

She slowly pulled away from Josh, relishing the warmth in his eyes before she turned to Jessie, who was now tugging on her arm like an impatient child.

“Sorry,” Jessie said, her eyes bright with excitement. “But you two will have to finish that later. Did you hear? Brooke and Seth are engaged.”

Heather's mouth dropped open. “What?”

Jessie nodded happily, orange curls bouncing all over the place. “Seth pulled her into their bedroom at midnight. Nobody noticed they disappeared, but when they came out . . . bling city! I need to get myself a billionaire hotel tycoon, that's for sure.”

Heather was already scanning the room for her friend, catching a glimpse of Brooke's blond hair and happy smile in a break in the crowd, before Brooke got swallowed by the well-wishers.

She glanced back at Josh. “I have to—”

He winked. “Go. I'll be around.”

Heather and Jessie fought their way through the crowd to get to their friend, and though Heather's heart was bursting with happiness for her friend, she couldn't resist a quick glance over her shoulder at Josh.

He was watching her, and grinned when she met his gaze. But her own smile faltered, because she could have sworn that amid the crowd and the festive mood and the celebration, Josh Tanner suddenly looked rather alone.

And very, very sad.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

D
O YOU THINK WE
even want to mentally add up the cost of these bottles?” Logan asked, holding up three empty champagne bottles in each hand as Josh held open a garbage bag.

“I doubt it,” Josh said, eyeing the label. “That shit's the good stuff. Seth certainly goes all out for New Year's Eve.”

“Correction,” came a low voice from behind them. “I go all out for the night I'm planning to propose.”

Josh turned and grinned as Seth Tyler joined them in the kitchen, and then because he was that kind of guy, went in for a man-hug. “Congrats, dude.”

Seth ran a hand over his head. “Thanks. Thanks. I thought . . . I hoped . . . let's just say I haven't slept in weeks. Maybe months.”

“Drink?” Logan asked, holding up a bottle of champagne that wasn't yet drained.

“Yeah, but not that,” Seth said, moving to open a cupboard and rummaging around until he came up with a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle. “Join me?”

“Twist my arm,” Josh said as Logan nodded enthusiastically.

Seth pulled out three crystal tumblers, pouring them each a liberal amount before lifting his glass. “Thanks for sticking around. To help with the cleanup.”

“Are you toasting to us right now?” Logan asked in puzzlement.

Seth's smile was slight and embarrassed. “I don't really know what a guy's supposed to say right now.”

“Nothing. You are supposed to stand there and gloat, and we're supposed to say well-done,” Josh said, clinking his glass with Seth's, then Logan's.

The majority of the guests had left or were stumbling around by the foyer, searching for coats and purses. The Belles were gathered in the living room, sprawled out on the white couch. Heather hadn't left Brooke's side since news of Seth and Brooke's engagement had broken, and it made him smile to see that she looked almost as happy as Brooke herself.

Seth let out a small snort. “You realize, right, that of the three of us, I'm the one that just got engaged, and yet I have the least whipped expression on my face.”

Logan and Josh glanced at each other before looking away in embarrassment, and Josh made a big show of clearing his throat before taking another sip of the exceptional bourbon Seth had shared. The drink was excellent, but the burn of the whisky seemed worse than he expected, aggravating his throat, which come to think of it, had been a bit raw all day.

“So you and Heather are sleeping together,” Seth said to Josh, taking a sip of his own whisky as he turned to Logan. “What's your story, Harris?”

“A lot of sleeping alone,” Logan said in his clipped, precise voice.

“Sucks,” Seth said quietly. “I don't know Alexis well, but she's good people. She's also—”

“Difficult, stubborn, and mostly blind?” Logan asked. “Yeah, got that. Thanks.”

“Tell me you at least got a kiss at midnight,” Josh said with a grin.

Logan scowled. “Couldn't find her. Had an ex-fling wrapped around me all night, and Alexis was cozied up to some wannabe bassist. No offense,” he said, with a nod at Josh.

He shrugged. “None taken. Not a bassist. Also no longer pursuing the music thing.”

Logan looked at him in surprise, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something but instead shaking his head and shrugging.

“What?” Josh asked.

“Nothing.” Logan sipped his drink. “Just assumed you turned down my offer because you'd decided to make a go of it in the music scene after all.”

Josh frowned. “What offer?”

“Ah—” Logan glanced in the direction of the women. “Damn. Well, okay, I suppose we're doing this. I'd mentioned to Heather a couple weeks back that I'd like to hire you.”

What. The Fuck.

“You told Heather you wanted to hire me.”

Logan nodded. “Now's not the time for the details,
but I thought she was the best one to broach the topic, since you two are . . . close.”

Seth snickered.

Josh turned his head and glanced at Heather, who seemed oblivious to him at the moment. For about half a second he was angry with her, mad that she hadn't even bothered to bring it up, given him the choice to say no. Josh's head throbbed at the thought, a dull ache in both temples, the slight headache that had been plaguing him all day worsening.

But he was self-aware enough to know this wasn't about Heather.

This was about
him
.

He'd been keeping her at arm's length from the very beginning, and this is what he got for it. A woman who dodged anything that might cause him to push her away.

Even more surprising was that Josh was intrigued. He liked Logan. And even without knowing what the job offer entailed, he knew he was interested. His instincts were humming, and a man learned to trust that.

“I'd like to talk next week,” Josh said quietly. “If you're still amenable.”

Logan studied his face. “I am.”

“Hey, boys, come over here,” Brooke called. “I need fresh meat to admire my ring.”

“Delicate angel you've got there,” Josh said to Seth as they picked up their drinks and headed into the living room, where the women sat gathered around the fire.

“Don't I know it,” Seth said in his quiet rumble.

But a quick glance at the man showed a softness about his features as he stared at Brooke—a look in his eyes that went beyond lust. Beyond friendship, even.

Damn.
Damn
.

The truth hit Josh hard.
He
wanted that. He wanted that stability, that faith that the other person would be there.

He wanted it with Heather. Badly.

But wanting it would never make it so. Not for him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

H
EATHER WAS EXHAUSTED.
B
ONE
tired in that way that came from too little sleep, too much champagne, and a very late night complete with very big news.

But despite having spent the entire quiet cab ride back to their building fantasizing about removing her tight dress and stilettos and crawling into bed, Heather was a little surprised to find a surge of energy returning as she and Josh tiredly trudged up the stairs.

Not just any energy.

A certain . . . lustful energy.

They paused outside their respective doors. Usually there was a playful your place or mine dialogue, but either they were too tired or their emotions too raw, because neither one said a word tonight.

In fact, Josh suddenly looked exhausted, and Heather had a moment of fear that he might be tired of
her
.

She stepped toward him, seeing his eyes cloud in surprise before she rested both hands on his cheeks
and pulled his face down to hers, pausing when their lips were just inches apart.

“I want you,” she whispered.

His smile was slow and deliberate. “Yeah?”

She slowly leaned forward, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth and biting. “Yeah.”

Josh groaned, turning her around so that her back was against her door, his mouth finding her neck as he caught a bit of skin between his lips and sucked hard before soothing the spot with his tongue.

There were things to be said. Things to be addressed. But Heather clung to the same mantra she'd been chanting all day.
Tomorrow
. She'd deal with it tomorrow.

“Come inside?” she said, pulling back and trailing her lips down his neck.

Josh didn't respond, and Heather pulled back to look at him.

“You okay?”

He forced a smile, but it was obvious he wasn't okay. He looked pale, his eyes a little glassy.

“Are you okay?” she asked, setting her palm against his cheek.

His eyes closed, and she got the sense he wanted to lean on her. Just a little. Instead he turned his head, pressing his lips to her palm. “I'm about to do something that no man should ever have to do. Ever.”

She snorted. “Turn down sex?”

He put a hand on the door behind her, pushing himself upright as he nodded. “I'm thinking it's better to quit now than find out halfway through that I can't perform to my usual sex-god status.”

“You're not feeling well?”

He lifted his shoulders. “Just a sore throat. A little tired.”

He didn't meet her eyes as he said it, and Heather internally snickered. What was it with dudes? Either they became huge babies at the first sign of a cold or they were ashamed of it and had to puff up their chest and dismiss it entirely.

Heather opened her clutch and pulled out her keys, turning toward the door and unlocking it before she grabbed his hand and tugged him into her apartment.

“Hey, 4C, I should really get some—”

“Sleep, I know,” she interrupted. “You're going to do it here.”

“At your place?”

“We both know my bed is more comfortable. My sheets are better
and
they're clean.”

Josh opened his mouth and she turned back to him, putting her hands on his face as she had in the hallway, but this time with tenderness instead of lust.

“Let me take care of you,” she said quietly.

Let me love you.

She knew he was tired then, because there was no protest. No snappy comeback. No dirty joke. Josh merely nodded.

In the bedroom, Josh removed his suit, but it was Heather who hung it up for him. Heather who turned down the bed, fluffing the pillow.

He sat on the bed wearing only his boxer briefs, catching her by the waist as she passed by him, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
“It kills me. Going to sleep instead of taking you up on your . . . offer. Especially when you look as smoking as you do tonight.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Tell you what. In a few days when you're feeling better, we can have a redo. I'll straighten my hair and repurpose the dress and shoes.”

“Thong?” he asked hopefully.

Heather rolled her eyes. Obviously he wasn't feeling that sick if he was still obsessed with tiny underwear.

“Yes. And the thong.”

“The little red one,” he said, lying back on the bed. “It's my favorite.”

“The little red one,” she soothed as she tugged the sheets and blankets up around him.

Josh's eyes closed the second his head hit the ­pillow.

By the time Heather finished hanging up her dress, taking off her makeup, and brushing her teeth, it was past three and Josh was sound asleep. She quietly eased into bed beside him, her eyes studying his profile as he slept.

It was rare that she saw him in a moment of vulnerability. Of the two of them, she was always the faster to fall asleep, the last to get out of bed. She took advantage of the rare moment to look at him when he didn't know she was looking.

He hadn't moved since he'd first lain down, the covers still tucked against his chin, the white of her blankets contrasting with the dark stubble on his stubborn jaw.

Josh Tanner really was a beautiful male. The long straight nose, the full lips. Even with the shadows under his eyes, his lashes were straight and full.

She felt like they'd taken some sort of step forward tonight, although she didn't quite know what it meant. Certain as she was now that she loved the damn man, she was glad she hadn't made the declaration. For starters, doing so in a crowded room just moments before midnight on New Year's Eve hadn't been the time.

More than that, though, feminine instinct told her that he wouldn't have said it back, and that would have been crushing.

For the first time in her life she'd fallen in love, and it was with someone who was determined not to love her back, for reasons she still had no clue about.

Heather laid her head on the pillow, her hand searching under the covers until it found his. She twined her fingers with his, smiling when, even in sleep, he easily fit his hand to hers, drawing her hand forward so their linked hands lay across his hard abs.

“You might not love me yet, 4A, but you will,” she whispered quietly before sitting up slightly to kiss his too-warm cheek. “You will.”