A puzzle I’d really like to put together.
Yes. I like him. I like Braden Black. A lot. I thought Addie was right at first, that he was a jerk, but now? He appeals to me, which frightens me, because he already told me he couldn’t have a relationship with me. He didn’t tell me why, and it’s too soon to ask.
I want to date him. If I spent more time with him outside the bedroom, maybe I could figure him out. Maybe I could make him want a relationship.
“Skye,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“It might interest you to know that I had my tailor make two dresses.”
I swallow the sip of water I just took. “Oh?”
“I did. You’ll be wearing that dress again, but the next time you’ll be on my arm, and there won’t be any question as to who you’re with.”
I suppress a smile. “Will you destroy it again?”
He stares at me, those blue eyes a hypnotic sapphire flame. “Yes. Definitely.”
My cheeks warm, and I know I’m turning about twelve shades of vibrant red. “When exactly will I be on your arm?”
“You decide.”
I let out a short laugh. “It’s a cocktail dress, Braden. It might surprise you to know that I don’t frequent a lot of formal affairs.”
“You will now. I’m invited to a lot of them, and since you insist on dating, you’ll be accompanying me.”
“If I insist?”
His eyes darken. “I want you in my bed, Skye. If taking you out sometimes is the way to make that happen, I’ll do it.”
“What if I want more than that?”
“What more is there?”
“A…relationship.”
He taps his fingers on the table. “I’ve told you I can’t be in a relationship with you.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t told me why.”
He wrinkles his forehead. Is he thinking about how to answer my question? Or is he getting angry? I can’t tell. Braden always has a touch of anger about him. In truth, it’s part of what attracts me to him—his darkness, the mystery that hovers around him like a dense cloud.
“The only reason I can give you is that I don’t want a relationship.”
“Why?”
He rubs his temple. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. But there is no answer.”
“You mean there’s no answer that will satisfy me.”
“Semantics, as you like to say.”
“I like you, Braden.”
He doesn’t smile, but his demeanor seems to lighten a bit. “I like you, too. I don’t sleep with people I don’t like.”
“You didn’t let me finish. I like you, but why me? You can have any woman out there. You must know that.”
“I’ve told you.”
“Yeah. You like my lips and my breasts. So do plenty of other men, and sexy lips and big tits aren’t that hard to find.”
“I won’t deny that those are fine features of yours, but I also told you the thing I like most about you. Your need for control.”
I take a sip of water and set my glass down more harshly than I mean to. “So I’m a game. If I give you control, you win. Is that it?”
“If you give me control, we both win.”
“And how long do you expect this arrangement to last?” I ask. “Until you get tired of me?”
That finally gets a chuckle from him. “As long as you want it to.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why is that?”
I huff softly. “Because you can have anyone. You’ll get tired of me long before I get tired of you.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ll see.”
I’ll see? What the heck does that mean?
The waiter brings our meals, and I study the coq au vin on my plate. I inhale the scent of burgundy, chicken, and mushroom. It smells heavenly, but I’m not at all hungry after this conversation.
Why would I grow tired of Braden?
The question interests me not only because I can’t imagine it but also because he intimated I might at some point in the future.
He’s bad news.
Addie’s words.
Tessa felt Addie is probably jealous, and she has a point, but I’m not convinced. Addie and I aren’t exactly friends. Being friends with your boss is never a great idea, and in Addie’s case, it isn’t possible anyway. We come from two different worlds.
As do Braden and I.
Braden takes a bite of his sole and swallows. “Nothing to say? That’s not like you.” He rises and lays his napkin across the back of his chair. He removes his phone from his pocket, crouches down next to me, and snaps a selfie of us. “What the hell? Let’s get them talking.”
“You’re Instagramming?”
“Kay will have the whole city talking about us within a day, so why not? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me, are you?”
Seriously? “Of course not.”
“Then there’s no problem that I can see.” He fiddles with his phone for a few seconds.
My phone dings in my purse.
“Tagged you,” he says.
I pull out my phone. Same as last time. It’s blowing up with notifications.