Playing Favorites: A Reverse Harem Romance Page 3
“So?” I asked. “How’s work.”
He pulled a face. “Tiring. Yours?”
“Well, I’m excited to get started,” I grinned.
“That’s great. It sounds like a good company.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Daddy, don’t say you’ve looked it up?”
“Yes, I have. And the Frost and Sullivan report on the hospitality industry looks good. So I expect that…”
I laughed, interrupting his speech. “Oh, Daddy, won’t you ever relax?”
“Relax?” he pulled a face. “What’s that?”
Laughing, I stood and went over to make coffee for us. “That thing when you sit on the terrace and drink coffee,” I said.
“Oh,” he chuckled. “That.” I passed him a cappuccino and then joined him at the table with my own. I couldn’t help a naughty smile as I thought of Heath in bed, those muscles glistening in lamplight.
“What?” I said as he laughed at me.
“There’s foam on your nose.”
I laughed and wiped it off.
“So?” he said, stretching, “how is life?”
“Good,” I said. “We have muesli in the cupboard still?”
“Sure,” he nodded. “But I thought you wanted something hot?”
I shrugged. “I’m too hungry to wait.”
He laughed. “I know the feeling. Let’s eat.”
As we ate, he told me about his work and his plans for the next few months—trips out to Japan to meet with collaborators, trips to his financiers. I frowned.
“You should send someone else,” I said. “You’re overdoing things.”
He shrugged. “What can I do? I need to be there.”
I considered asking him to take it easy. The less he cared for his own health, the more he was putting the obligation on me to care for it for him, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I just sighed.
“I guess.”
“And you, Kel?” he frowned.
“Me what?” I asked. “You mean my plans?”
“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “And I was wondering if you had any friends here?”
“Friends?” I frowned. He looked innocent, but I knew Dad. He was trying to gently find out if I was seeing anyone.
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “You know, those people that give you good company.”
I laughed. “Fine. I do have some friends. Paige is still here, and Greer.”
“Oh,” he said, nodding. “That’s good.”
I shot him a look. I knew he was trying to probe about boyfriends. I wasn’t going to tell him. Not until I knew myself.
We moved on to a piece of toast, then Dad, sighing, stood. “Well, I guess I should go and read emails. Always seems to be someone wanting some information…” he shook his head, cracking his knuckles painfully.
I nodded. “I know. Don’t work too hard, huh.”
“You too.”
When he had gone, I stayed where I was, a second cup of coffee cradled in between my palms. I watched the morning lighten over the distant city. I thought about the previous night.
Heath was a great lover. I could appreciate that. In fact, my body still tingled at the thought of him. But at the same time, there was no real spark between us. I sighed. I hoped he hadn’t felt more than I had. For me, it was a wild, enjoyable night. That was all.
I feel bad that he gave me his number.
I sighed and set my coffee aside, stretching. I ought to do something about that. Make sure we were on the same page. I reached into my pocket and, to my surprise, there was a message from him.
Hi, Kelsey, this is Heath. You want to meet for coffee this afternoon?
I felt a wash of relief. Perfect: I could tell him then.
Hi, Heath, I wrote back. Great. See you at three? Folio’s good?
I finished my coffee and by the time I was heading to my bedroom, the reply had already arrived.
Great.
That afternoon, I drove to Folio and walked in. I’d chosen to wear a knee-length, breezy dress—it was really hot out. My hair was half-loose, drawn back from my face into a loose plait that left most of it free.
I saw him catch sight of me and smile. I felt a flush of pleasure at the way his eyes kindled, looking at me. In the daylight, he was even more ruggedly handsome than I remembered, and my pulse started to flutter. I sat down opposite.
“Hi,” he said with a grin. “Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” I said. “I wanted to talk.”
“Oh?” he smiled; an affable smile. He seemed neither attached nor unattached, just pleasantly interested. It was a relief for me.
“Well?” I asked.
“Should we place orders?”
“Yes, please,” I said. “I would love lemonade.”
“Good idea,” he said, brow rising approvingly. “It is hot here.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. He caught my double meaning and grinned.
“It certainly is,” he said.
We both smiled and placed our orders. When the waiter had gone, I just studied Heath a moment, feeling my insides heat up. He was so good looking it was almost painful. But there wasn’t that special something. Usually, if I’m interested in a guy—like, really interested—I either want to talk, or I clam up. With Heath, I felt neither. I was aroused, but not interested. Not really.
The waiter brought our drinks and I thanked him, then turned to Heath.
“You having a good day?” I asked casually.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Relaxed. Yourself?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I was glad when you said you wanted to talk. I wanted to talk too.”
“About what?” he asked lazily. I smiled.
“You know. I can’t exactly forget what happened the other night. But, well…you know…” I shifted uncomfortably, not sure what I wanted to say.
He nodded. “I know,” he said. “We’re suited for that, but, well…”
“Not everything,” I nodded intensely.
“Yes.”
“Whew,” I smiled. “Thanks for getting it.” I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I never liked upsetting people, and especially since Chris and my own experience of critical partners, I really didn’t want to upset anyone else.
He grinned, that same lazy smile. “I do get it. You’re a woman with definite tastes. If you wanted more of me, I’d know by now.”
I laughed. “Well! I wouldn’t have put it like that myself. But thanks,” I said, feeling a sweet glow in my abdomen. “That’s a nice thing to say.”
He just smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re like that yourself,” I commented.
He nodded. “Yes, I am.”
We both laughed.
“You know,” he said, after the comfortable silence had lengthened somewhat. “I noticed something yesterday. Grayson likes you.”
“Grayson?” I felt my brow rise. “He does?” I thought back to the previous evening. I could barely recall him, other than a brooding, darkly handsome presence on my right-hand side. I wouldn’t have thought he noticed me.
“Yeah,” Heath nodded. He finished his lemonade. “Trust me. I know him.”
“Well, he was very quiet,” I said tentatively. “I wouldn’t have thought that…”
“Trust me,” he interrupted. “He really does.”
I just shook my head. “That surprises me.” In spite of myself, I felt a slight tickle of interest. Two brothers…well…
“Yes,” Heath nodded. “He’s standoffish. Awkward guy,” he added with a laugh.
“Is he?” I frowned. “Well, sounds like a challenge.”
“Challenge accepted,” Heath laughed.
I chuckled. “Are you trying to set me up?”
He shrugged. “No,” he admitted. “But, well…I don’t often see Grayson pay attention to anyone the way he did to you. And I thought, well, maybe you’d like to know.”
“Thanks,” I said. I shrugged, pretending d
isinterest. Really, my stomach tingled at the thought of a fresh challenge. I could recall enough of Grayson to know that he was very handsome. And as built and buff as his brother, easily. I wondered.
We sat and chatted a while longer, then I noticed it was almost five.
“Heck,” I said apologetically. “I’ve got to go. Got some stuff to sort out before I start work tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Heath said, shrugging. “Good luck!”
“Thanks,” I smiled.
We stood up and I looked into his eyes. Those brown eyes, warm and exciting, made my body ache. I couldn’t help that I was really excited by Heath. He grinned.
“All the best,” he said when we stood on the sidewalk, his hand on mine.
“Thanks,” I said, my heart touched by the wishes. “You too.”
“Thanks,” he said.
We looked at each other a bit longer and then I walked away, mentally shaking myself like the way a dog shakes off water. I felt touched by Heath’s care, but I couldn’t find more than arousal in me when I thought of him. Grayson, on the other hand…
That intrigued me.
Though I had to admit that, when I thought of the four brothers, the face that came back to me was Donnell. If I had to be with one of the four of them, he would be the one I chose. With that brooding, dark character, he seemed to me to be the sort of guy a girl could pursue and never catch.
And for the moment, that suited me just fine. I checked the time: ten past five. I could drive home and have a little time to look up Bradford Construction before I started my work preparations.
4
Grayson
“Dammit,” I said.
I was in my office, trying to finish the annual logistics report. I put my elbows on my desk, leaned on them and sighed. The figures were making my eyes crossed.
It wasn’t that, though, or the fact that I was working on a Saturday evening, that upset me. I was used to both by now. It was her.
Or, to be more accurate, her and Heath. I sighed. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I recalled the sweet floral scent of her, the pale pink lips.
“Grayson, she liked Heath. Let it go.”
It wasn’t just the thought of her that was making my blood heat. It was the thought of her and Heath. I recalled the way they’d sat and talked. The way his hand had rested on hers on the table, the way I’d seen him touch her shoulder, her thigh. The sweet, pale skin of her thigh where the dress she wore shifted, letting it show through. I imagined her skin like petals, soft and fragrant.
Oh, for pity’s sake.
I stood, feeling restless. Every thought of her made my blood run to my insides and I found myself constantly distracted. It was useless for work purposes. Thoughts of her were tormenting me.
I stretched and yawned.
“Six o’ clock,” I noted. “Plenty of time.”
I changed my shoes and headed out for a walk. I needed to get out and into nature. Maybe it would help me cool off.
I went through the park. The place was cool and green with late-afternoon shade. I could see people jogging, others sitting on benches to read or chat or just to watch the scenery. Kids played on the swings, laughing and breathless. I smiled, seeing a pair of brothers playing hide-and-go-seek.
It could have been me and Heath.
We were the eldest, then Donnell, then Clarke. At just twenty-five, Clarke was the baby of us. He and Donnell were only two years apart, and then I was three years older. Heath was two years older than me.
My feet took me automatically toward Heath’s apartment block. Unlike me, he’d chosen a more upmarket part of the city to live in, green and leafy and full of high-cost apartment blocks. I found his and paused, considering whether or not I wanted to visit. We usually saw each other on Sunday, but today I wasn’t sure if I could look him in the eye.
“Come on, you,” I told myself harshly. “He’s your brother. Do it now.”
Now, before my anger got solidified inside me. I rang the bell.
“Heath?”
“Grayson!” he called out. “Just got in. Great to hear you—come inside.”
The gate opened and soon I was settled on his couch, a glass of something cool in between my hands.
“So,” Heath smiled. “How’s things?”
“Okay,” I said. I felt awkward. I looked around the room, images of them being here running through my head. I imagined her in here naked. I blushed.
“What?” Heath asked. I looked up to find him staring at me in that way he had that suggested he was looking into my mind. I shifted on the seat uncomfortably.
“Nothing,” I said. I looked down, feeling suddenly angry. He knew what was wrong, or he wouldn’t be asking me like that. I resented his acting like my big brother.
“She likes you,” Heath said.
I stared at him. I put my drink down, carefully, afraid I’d drop it.
“What did you say?” I asked carefully.
“I said, she likes you,” he said. “Kelsey.”
“I know who you mean” I said awkwardly. “I just think that’s not true.”
Heath sighed. “Grayson, don’t be silly. Of course she does.”
“Just stop it. She went home with you, okay. So quit bragging about it. I don’t need that.”
“I wasn’t, Grayson,” he said quietly.
I recognized that tone. It was the one that said I’d upset him. He was too brotherly to get mad at me about it, but clearly he was hurt. I sighed. Leaned back on his leather couch and stared at the ceiling pensively.
“Okay, you weren’t,” I agreed. “But then, why say that? She didn’t notice me.”
“She did,” he said. When I looked at him, he was leaning back, composed. Nothing ever ruffled my brother. Three years older than me, calm and strong. I had always wished I was like him. Now, I just wished he’d stop trying to make me feel better and leave me to my misery.
“I don’t believe you,” I said quietly.
“Grayson?”
My brother’s voice had that undeniable harsh note in it. I looked up at him quickly. “What?”
“I don’t lie.”
I sighed again. “Fine,” I said. “I know you don’t. But…” I paused and took a sip of my drink, hoping that it might cool me off a bit.
“But what?” he frowned.
“But I wouldn’t put it past you to exaggerate a bit—to make me feel better.” I smiled.
“Trust me, Grayson. I wouldn’t stroke your ego. Really, I wouldn’t.”
I shot him a look and we both chuckled.
I leaned back, feeling better. I allowed myself to consider the possibility that what he was saying was true. That Grayson really did fancy me.
I felt myself flush. My groin twinged a little, recalling her soft, sweet body.
“Well?” Heath said with a grin.
“Well, what?”
“Well, are you going to call her? I’ve got her number.”
I went red. “No way! I can’t just call her out of the blue.”
He sighed. “Yeah, okay. I get that.”
He ran a hand through his honey-dark hair. He looked so relaxed and, well, hot. In my mind, there wasn’t a girl alive who would see him and me and not want him instead. I didn’t want that to be true, but I had to face facts.
I recalled a time when we were both at high school. He had been dating Merrill, one of the cheerleaders of the football team. She was easily the sexiest girl I had ever seen. I and half the school had crushes on her. I recalled seeing her kiss him, and feeling the same crushing, painful jealousy I’d felt last night. It was so strong it felt like it would choke me. Underneath the jealousy, I knew, was a deep-seated inadequacy. It came from when we were small boys, and Dad had favored Heath.
“Heath,” I said quietly.
“What?” he asked, his handsome face warm with a lazy smile.
“I just…I was thinking about when we were kids. I’m sorry if I was weird sometimes. Like, envious.”
<
br /> He frowned. “I don’t remember that,” he said.
“Heath, you don’t lie. So stop saying that. You must remember.”
He leaned back on the chair opposite—one that matched the one I was sitting in, except an individual one. His whole house had a sort of dark elegance about it—brown leather and wood finishing. Even in that way, he managed to outdo me. In that way, I didn’t really mind. He had a better eye for style than any of us and we all took advantage of it. Now, I watched him look up at the ceiling, thinking.
“I do recall one time,” he admitted. “When we were about…ten maybe?”
“You were ten,” I said tightly. “I was eight. Or seven.”
“Yeah,” Heath nodded. “You beat me up.”
I felt my insides crimp, remembering that. “Yeah.”
I had broken his nose. We had been fighting about baseball. He said he’d got a home run, and I said he hadn’t. It had been the first and last time I’d called him a liar.
I looked at him now. His nose was straight and fine boned. It had healed—we were both kids and the bones were soft, still, able to heal up nicely when set. Dad had set it. He hadn’t asked any questions, but I had sensed he knew why—he’d been distant with all of us for a while after that.
Now, Heath chuckled. “I guess it served me right. I was probably being bossy.”
I shook my head. “No, Heath. It wasn’t that.”
Dammit, why couldn’t he just notice I’d been jealous of him, and still was? Especially now, that, like with his girlfriend Merrill when we were at school, he’d got the sexiest girl alive? It wasn’t just girls either.
“I know you had issues with how Dad was with me,” he said quietly.
I stared at him. This was, as far as I knew, the closest he’d come to acknowledging that. “Heath,” I said. “You mean that?”
“Yes. I do. Dad’s gone, Grayson,” he said gently. “We don’t have the good things we had with him anymore. We should let those bad things go too.”
His words washed over me, touching raw places I never knew I still had. “Hell, Heath,” I nodded. “You’re right.”
“I guess I am,” he said. His brown eyes—so like Dad’s, and all of ours—met mine. He smiled. “Well, I don’t say smart things every day. So we might as well enjoy it while it lasts.”