His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) (23 page)

BOOK: His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit)
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“How much did you have?” Allie asked.

“Don’t remember,” Brynn said, blinking up at Iain.

“She had four glasses and little food,” Iain said, lifting her to her feet.

“She’s always been a lightweight,” Monica said. Not a terribly helpful observation.

Allie stood to one side, her brow furrowed. “She should spend the night here.”

Iain lifted her in his arms. “She has work in the morning. I’ll take her home, tuck her in.”

“Will you now?” Trevor asked.

“Keep your shirt on, mate. Her neighbor’s been staying in the guest room. I’ll leave her in good hands, yeah?”

Brynn looked up at him, a sloppy smile on her face. “You weren’t a dickhead tonight.”

“I tried my best, pet.”

Allie led the way to the foyer. Outside, Iain’s driver waited, and when he saw them emerge, he immediately flew out of the car and opened the back door.

Iain climbed in with Brynn on his lap. As he settled in the seat, she flopped against him like a rag doll.

Allie and Monica leaned their heads inside the car.

“Take care of her,” Allie said.

“Call me tomorrow, Sis. Damn.” Monica withdrew. “We should have gotten pics. I’ve never seen her this drunk before.”

The driver closed the door and Iain stroked Brynn’s hair. “It’s all right, love. We’ll get you home.”

“I don’t usually get hammered.”

“No, you don’t say.”

“It’s true. I love my sisters, but they’re annoying, you know?” She slurred her words together until it sounded like one jumbled sentence. “I couldn’t run off and leave you because they’d eat you alive. You were really nice tonight.” She reached up and tapped his cheek. “Good job.” Then she snuggled against his shoulder and fell asleep.

Once they arrived at her house, Iain couldn’t rouse her. If he wasn’t mistaken, she may have drooled on his pocket square. Picking her up, he trotted up to the front porch and kicked on the door until Tasha opened it.

“What is problem?” she asked, then saw Brynn. “What did you do? I warn you, Englishman, if you hurt her—”

“Stuff it, would you? She’s drunk. Let us in.” As soon as Tasha moved out of the way, Iain carried Brynn into the house and down the hall.

In Brynn’s bedroom, Tasha flipped on the overhead light and hovered in the doorway. “I will check on her tonight. You can go home.”

“Come and remove the duvet, would you?”

With a melodramatic sigh, Tasha pulled back the covers. Iain laid Brynn on the bed and stared down at her. He was reluctant to leave her. What if she awoke in the middle of the night and needed something? Besides, he’d gotten used to sleeping next to her. Kneeling, he removed her sandals, then covered her with the blanket.

“She will be fine,” Tasha said.

He knew that. Of course she would. Everyone went on a bender now and again. Most people anyway. However, Brynn had done it to escape the dinner with her family. She kept running from her problems, in one way or another. Her sisters ran roughshod over her, gave her hell, and Brynn allowed it.
The way she allowed you to blaze into her life. Into her bed.

God, how Iain hated this now-familiar guilt. And he was choking on a big dose of it tonight.

One of Tasha’s little dogs started yapping for attention, until she picked it up and cuddled it in her arms. “Fine, Englishman. Stay. I grow weary of arguing with you.” She turned and walked away with the second dog trailing after her.

Iain turned on the table lamp, shut the door, and flicked off the main light. He’d already fucked up his meeting with Trevor Blake. May as well stay and make sure Brynn was taken care of. Honestly, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

* * *

The next day, Brynn awoke with a vicious hangover. Her mouth was dry, her eyes felt swollen, and Iain didn’t say a word about it as he set a mug of coffee on her bedside table. She watched him dress, knotting his tie as he stared into the mirror on her chipped white dresser.

“About last night—”

He turned and slung on his vest. “Let it rest, pet. Take your time getting to the office.” Grabbing his jacket, he shoved his arms into the sleeves and walked over to the bed, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

He was disappointed in her. He didn’t need to say it—she could read it in his face, in the tight line of his shoulders.
What do you expect, jellyfish? Of course he’s disappointed. You let him down.
He turned and disappeared, shutting the door softly behind him.

As Brynn watched him go, she felt like shit—both physically and emotionally. She’d left Iain stranded last night, at the mercy of her sisters and their husbands and all those prying, personal questions. She was nothing but a coward. Brynn should have taken Allie and Monica to task, told them her relationship with Iain was no one’s damned business. But instead, she’d hung him out to dry and downed glass after glass of wine.

Iain was a good man. He wasn’t always the nicest person, but he had his own kind of integrity. He deserved her support. She’d fucked up, and somehow, she was going to have to make it up to him.

When she heard the front door shut, Brynn picked up her coffee and sipped it slowly. Yeah, that was the stuff. Made her feel almost human again. Didn’t soothe her conscious, though.

She had settled back against the headboard, praying her temples would stop pounding, when Tash walked into the bedroom without knocking. She wore short shorts and a rhinestone-encrusted T-shirt. When she settled Moose and Squirrel on the bed, Brynn didn’t offer a protest. She was in too much pain to care. She set her mug aside as Tash flopped onto the mattress.

“Your Englishman carry you to bed last night. He is not total asshole.”

“I got drunk. I never get drunk.”

“Well, you get drunk last night. Why?”

Good question. Brynn could put the blame on her sisters. They were a pain in the ass sometimes, no matter how much she loved them. But it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t Iain’s fault either. He’d thought she was ashamed of him. Not even. What woman wouldn’t be proud to have a brilliant, beautiful Iain on her arm? No, Brynn was ashamed of herself.

She hadn’t wanted to face the personal questions and her family’s larger-than-life personalities. Allie was always overprotective and a little suffocating. She meant well, but Brynn felt burdened by the weight of all that energy. Monica’s in-your-face persona was aggressive—and exhausting. Trevor remained coldly silent, always judging. And Cal…well, Cal was the most easygoing one in the group, but even he hadn’t been very welcoming toward Iain. So instead of handling things like a competent person, Brynn had checked out.

Breathing out a sigh, she reclaimed her mug and took a sip. “I get overwhelmed sometimes. Allie and Monica are so…loud. They pick at me and then start badgering each other.”

“What is this badger?” Tash asked, rubbing
Moose’s
belly.

“Quarreling.”

Tash nodded. “Yes, it is same with my sister. She is bitch. Yet I miss her. Some days, I hate her. And yet, I would kill anyone who dared to harm her. That is the way of family.”

“You’re right. But I always feel like it’s two against one.”

“When they…
badger
you, tell them to eat shit. Simple as that, yes?”

It probably
was
that simple. But Brynn had always struggled to be heard in her family. She’d always been the quiet one. When her mom got sick, Brynn withdrew even further. It was the way she coped with Allie’s bossiness and Monica’s bitchiness. Yet she wasn’t that little girl anymore. She was a grown woman who wasn’t taking care of business. That seriously needed to change.

She finished her coffee while the two dogs softly snored and Tasha complained about Zeke.

Brynn let her friend run out of steam. If she was going to start tackling things head-on, she may as well start with Tasha. She loved this woman, had nothing but sympathy for her. Brynn liked that she could provide comfort and solace when Tash needed it. But she also knew Tash would stay for two weeks if Brynn let her. She’d done it before.

The problem was, Natasha and her pups weren’t great roommates. Tash used up all the hot water, never cleaned up after herself, and allowed the dogs to poop on Brynn’s back porch. Plus, Brynn would feel obligated to spend time with Tash, when she’d rather spend her nights with Iain. She needed to send Tash home, but damn, why did it have to be so hard?

“Tash.” The other woman glanced up. Brynn took a deep breath. “You know I’m your friend. That I care about you. I’m glad that when you’re in crisis, you know you can always come here. But
I
really believe if you go home and talk to Zeke, you can work things out. Communication, that’s the key.” Did Brynn feel like a fraud for giving Tash advice she herself didn’t take? Um, yep. But it was past time to start setting some boundaries in her life.

Tasha sniffed and looked away. “I have talked until my face is blue. He is cruel man. I never go back to him.”

“He’s not cruel. He’s just set in his ways. And you’re not always the most flexible person in the world.”

“I flexible. See.” She bent one leg behind her head in some bizarre yoga pose. Since she wasn’t wearing underwear, Brynn put up a hand to block out the sight of Tasha’s well-waxed hoo-ha.

“Okay, please stop doing that.”

Tasha resumed her normal position, lounging at the foot of the bed.

“It’s time to fix things with your man. I think you guys should see a therapist, someone who will help you come to a compromise.”

Tash pursed her lips. “So you are kicking me to curb.”

Brynn felt the slightest twinge of guilt. This thing with Iain was new, and Brynn wanted to nurture it. To do that, she needed her nights free. Plus, Brynn wanted her home back. “I’m not kicking you out. I’m sending you home.”

“Fine. I go.” Tash grabbed the dogs and stomped off to the guest room. A few minutes later, she wheeled her Louis Vuitton luggage past Brynn’s bedroom door. She poked her head inside. “You take luggage, I get dogs.”

“Deal.” Brynn was still wearing her dress from the night before. She stood and made a vain attempt to smooth her hand over the wrinkled skirt. As she passed the mirror, she saw her mascara had migrated south, rimming her eyes and leaving streaks along her cheek. Iain had seen her looking like this. Wonderful.

She grabbed Tasha’s bags, walked her across the street, and gave her a big hug. “It’ll be okay. I’ll help you find a therapist if you want.”

Tash sniffed in her ear. “I want.”

Brynn added that to her mental list of things to do, then ran back home and quickly got ready for work. Her headache had settled into a mild pounding, which was manageable.

Speeding off to Blue Moon Corp., she hoped to see Iain, maybe apologize and take him to lunch. However, when she ducked into his suite, Amelia informed her that Iain was gone. In fact, he’d be out for most of the day. Disappointment settled in her chest as she walked into the conference room to continue interviewing employees.

After a solitary lunch, she headed back to her own office, tried her best to avoid Cass, and started chipping away at her pile of work.

When Iain finally called her at five, relief flooded her. He was still talking to her after last night. She’d thought maybe she’d screwed it up for good.

“Dinner at mine, yeah? Make sure you bring clothes for tomorrow. I want you to stay the night. I’ll pick you up at your house in an hour.” In his typical bossy fashion, he didn’t ask, he just expected her to fall in line. It gave Brynn a secret little thrill. When anyone else bossed her around, she felt like a doormat. When Iain did it, she got turned on.

The rest of the week passed quickly. Brynn worked like a fiend every day and went home to Iain every night. They spent most of their time at his place. Though twice they stayed at Brynn’s. She liked that best, being at home, surrounded by her own things. She’d cook a simple dinner, and Iain would help her with the dishes. That surprised her—seeing him roll up his sleeves and pitch in.

She made space in her closet for a few of his suits, and he shifted some clothes around in his dressing room so that she had a whole rack to herself. After knowing each other only two weeks, they were practically living together. Normally, Brynn would have been plagued by a million doubts. Things were moving so fast, it left her spinning, but with Iain, she didn’t even question it. She was happier than she’d ever been. There was only one little thing niggling the back of her brain: Allie’s dinner party.

When Brynn tried to apologize again, Iain cut her off. “Everyone’s gotten drunk a time or two. No harm in it. Drop it, Brynnie.”

So she did. But the shame stayed with her, haunted her. Brynn silently vowed to do better.

Throughout the week, Brynn had tried several times to bring up TDTC business with Cass. Unfortunately, her boss didn’t want to discuss her floundering company and stubbornly refused to get outside help. Instead, she overshared about her new boyfriend who had two cats of his own, and neither of them got along with Nef. The sex, however, was spectacular. Same old, same old.

Brynn started working until five every night. She couldn’t care more about the company than Cass did. Even if Brynn worked 24-7, she wouldn’t be able to save the businesses, not if Cass continued to bury her head in the sand. Brynn grappled with fessing up to her coworkers, especially Paige. They deserved to know the truth about TDTC’s dire circumstances. She wrestled with her own decision, too. Leave a sinking ship or ride it out to the end? Despite asking herself the same questions over and over again, she never came up with any answers.

BOOK: His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit)
13.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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