My Fiancé's Brother (The Guilty Series Book 1) Read online

  And what about all the trips to the hospital? A seven year old who was at the mercy of a violent drunk was an impossible situation to imagine. I could not wash away the image of a small boy wary and alert, hiding and running from a drunk and menacing man intent on causing pain. Why hadn’t the authorities done more to protect him?

  Matt’s father had been a police officer and had taken Jackson into his home, but obviously not full time. Why hadn’t he called social services? Why had the system failed Jackson as a boy, to the point that he was riddled with broken limbs and probably unimaginable emotional scars. The whole situation made me so angry on Jackson’s behalf. I wanted answers, but the past was something that both Matt and Jackson preferred not to talk about. Yet I had a weird feeling that they needed to talk about the past, to bridge the issue that was hindering them now.

  Matt was almost never home. He was avoiding Jackson and myself like the plague. Jackson seemed more patient about the entire thing. His energy was very neutral when Matt did show up, but there was not a lot of warmth between the two of them. They were both on their guard and were excruciatingly distant and polite with each other. Matt had adamantly expressed to me that he did not want Jackson to leave and Jackson was making no motion to leave which told me they both wanted to mend whatever had come between them. I got the sense neither of them knew how to fix it, so we were left in this uncomfortable impasse.

  I sighed and dumped my half eaten plate in the sink. The fact that Jackson took off indicated to me that maybe the hug had been a little bit too much for him to handle. Yet he hadn’t wanted me to let go. The man was complicated.

  ***

  I sat downstairs until 11 PM reading the same page in my book over and over again, but neither Jackson nor Matt came home. Finally, defeated, I went to bed.

  Chapter 12

  “Why did I ever think that a party was a good idea?” I wailed from the kitchen. Fifty people were about to descend into my space in a matter of hours. I hated parties. I knew no greater punishment than to host a party.

  Jackson stood shirtless at the door, drinking from a water bottle. The man liked to grind his body through the most intense, insane workouts imaginable and this afternoon was no different. Did people even realize that a body that looked that photoshopped was the result of ruthless determination and constant work? No wonder the dad bod was coming back in style.

  “I think you wanted me to have more selection than just Julie,” he said.

  I pointed a knife at him. “After this, you and your sex life are completely on your own. You're the last person that needs help in that department anyways.”

  He grinned. “Tell me what to do.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where is your list?”

  “What makes you think I have a list?”

  “You have an entire binder for your wedding. You're the queen of lists. Cough it up,” he said. He pulled on a t-shirt that hung over one of the stools.

  I grabbed my notebook and looked at my scrawl. I suppressed a deep shiver when he came around and leaned over me.

  “Clean back rooms,” he read.

  “That says bathrooms.”

  He leaned closer, so close I could feel the heat off his body. “You get an F in handwriting.”

  “I’m left-handed.”

  “Why do left-handed people always use that excuse for messy writing?”

  “It’s not an excuse. It is a fact.”

  He grinned, “Is that why your car is so messy? Because you’re left-handed?”

  I started to laugh. “Life is too short to be a neat freak.”

  “You do realize that the average messy person wastes more time looking for stuff than a neat freak spends tidying up.”

  “You can’t just make stuff up and act like it is a fact.”

  He grinned. “It is a scientific study. Look it up.”

  “I don’t have time. I'm too busy looking for things.”

  We stood there smiling at each other.

  “Okay I'll do the bathrooms.”

  I snorted. “Please.”

  He glanced down at me. I noticed flicks of gold in his green eyes. “You think a sailor doesn’t know how to clean?”

  “I'm sure you can clean. But I can’t ask you to clean the bathrooms.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Jackson vacuumed, dusted, set up chairs and cleaned the bathrooms to a state I had never seen them before. I cooked a tremendous amount of appetizers. He stepped out to get ice while I changed. I worked to create ambiance with lights, candles and music while he showered.

  I almost choked on my wine, when he walked downstairs. A black, short-sleeved buttoned shirt showed off his arms and his jeans hugged his butt. I struggled to not stare. His sex appeal rocked off the charts. I envisioned my worldly, ultra-hip New York girlfriends reactions as they laid their eyes on him. Women who were used to being chased, would turn into snarling, snapping wolves, fighting for his attention.

  “What’s left?” he interrupted my thoughts.

  “I think we’re pretty much done.”

  He looked around. “Looks good.”

  “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  His eyes tracked to my mouth. “All this effort to get me laid.”

  “Yeah.” I inwardly winced.

  My heart fluttered when a smile slowly spread across his face.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You just get this look on your face when we talk about my sex life.”

  “Your sex life is none of my business.”

  “How old are you?”

  “24. How old are you?”

  “29.” His eyes traced my face. “So what made you want to abstain from all things in the bedroom?”

  My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. Completely serious. “Yeah.”

  My breath stuck in my ribs. “It took a few years to recover from losing my parents. My grandma was pretty liberal but she was old-fashioned when it came to boys.”

  “What about when you went to college?”

  I lifted my hands. “It isn’t like guys were beating down my bedroom door. I had feelings though. I used to have crushes on guys.”

  “What kind of guys?” his eyes narrowed.

  “I seemed to gravitate towards big athletic guys. At parties, I was the shy red head, who stared at them from across the room. And I was incapable of talking to a single one of them. I would watch them go home with my friends.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “They never saw me. Not when there was someone like Julie in the room.”

  “She’s average.”

  If he thought someone like Julie was average, I couldn’t imagine the caliber of women he dated. “She’s a catch.”

  He crossed his thick arms. “So, if the hunky quarterback had found the balls to put the moves on you, would he have been able to have you?”

  My mind raced, uncertain of my answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Matt doesn’t protest your vow of celibacy?”

  I rubbed my forehead. Matt rarely attempted to touch me. Since we had become engaged, I had hoped we would fool around a bit more, but he seemed uninterested in taking things further. “He seems okay with it.”

  Jackson tilted his head and paused. “He’s either an idiot or he’s a better guy than me.”

  My head jerked up. “What? Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t think I would be okay with it.”

  My heart bounced in my chest. “What about all your navy trained self discipline?”

  “SEALs have discipline, but they thrive on challenges. If you and I were engaged, I wouldn’t pay attention to any of this waiting-for-marriage bullshit.”

  My eyes widened in shock. The thought of being engaged to Jackson did weird things to my stomach. Something forbidden hung between us. Decadent, sinful images flashed wildly before my eyes. I imagined him crawling up the bed, laughing with
that smile, teasing me, kissing my neck. My entire body reacted to his statement.

  “You can’t say that.”

  “I just did.”

  He watched my face with interest.

  “All of my friends are going to go bananas over you, but to be honest, you kind of scare me.”

  The intensity of his stare whipped shivers up my spine. “You’re the one who scares me.”

  I struggled to bring air into my lungs. Why did I scare him? How was that even possible? “I thought you didn’t feel fear.”

  “I feel it, I just manage it.”

  Our eyes stayed locked.

  “Hello?” A voice intruded from the door.

  I tore myself away from his gaze. Julie walked in, carrying two bottles of wine.

  “Hi,” I scrambled towards her, part grateful and part resentful for the interruption. We hugged.

  She peeked around me, “Hi Jackson.”

  He raised his hand and waved.

  She looked back at me, a smile stuck on her face. She whispered through her smile. “I thought I told you that I wanted it to be a quiet evening?”

  I had texted Julie a couple days ago, telling her that we had upgraded the dinner to a party.

  I cleared my throat. “I thought it would be a good chance for Jackson to meet people.”

  “I wanted him to myself,” she hissed. “You have everything. Why couldn’t you help me out on this one thing?”

  I glanced back at Jackson who was watching our whispery exchange from the kitchen. “More alcohol and more chances to flirt than a boring old dinner.”

  She pushed her arm into mine. “Good point. I forgive you.”

  She spoke in a normal voice. “Where is Matt, anyways?”

  We walked to the island and I checked my watch. “He should be home soon.”

  She shifted her attention to Jackson. “Hi Jackson. How are you?”

  “Good, how are you?”

  His friendly smile stunned Julie into an uncustomary silence. Her arm squeezed mine tight in response. Geez, he needed to keep that thing on a leash. Yup. I sensed a feeding frenzy in our near future.

  “So what brings you to New York, Jackson?” Julie vibrated with energy.

  I uncorked the wine and poured Julie a glass.

  “I'm stateside for a few months.”

  “Stateside?” Her interest peaked higher. “Are you in the military?”

  “The navy.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Like a real sailor?”

  “Navy SEAL.”

  Her hands danced to her chest. “Oh my God.”

  I looked down at her wine and decided to take a big sip before passing it to her.

  “Julie has a thing for guys in uniforms.” I paused, thoughtful. “And guns.”

  “She doesn’t lie.” She batted her eye lashes like she had something in both eyes. I inwardly sighed. Julie’s behaviour was reminiscent of our University days. But this time, I would not be at the party alone. This time I was engaged.

  I stepped away and dialled Matt’s number.

  A female voice purred, “Hello?”

  I looked at the face of my phone. I confirmed that I had dialled Matt’s number. “Is Matt there?”

  “Sure. One moment.”

  The phone fumbled and then Matt’s voice was on the line. His voice sounded too whispery. “Hey.”

  I swallowed a very bad feeling down my throat and let it sink into my stomach. “Who was that?”

  “That was Katherine. We are all working overtime on this brief and there must be 10 cell phones on the boardroom table. I think she just thought my cell was hers.”

  “There are other people there?”

  A short laugh punched out of him. “Of course. Honestly, we are up to our eyeballs here.”

  I placed my hand on my forehead. “Do you know what day it is?”

  “It is either Saturday or Sunday. I'm hoping it is Saturday, because if it is Sunday, we are fucked.”

  “Matt,” I whispered, looking up. Jackson watched me from across the room. Julie was talking at him, a mile a minute. “The party for Jackson? Remember?”

  “Oh crap,” he said. “Emily.”

  “We have over 50 people arriving here in less than half an hour. You have to come home.”

  “I'll make it up to you.”

  “Matt.” I heard the pleading tone in my voice.

  “Emily. You know I would be there if I could, but it is just not going to happen. Not this weekend.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Well Jackson is there, isn’t he?”

  I focused on the ceiling in despair. Why could Matt never make me his priority? He promised me repeatedly that he would come home, but lately he was a ghost. He pushed me to spend time with Jackson, someone I knew deep in my heart, I needed to spend less time with, not more. My emotions confused me. “He’s here. But he isn’t my fiancé whom I want to spend time with.”

  “Have fun for me, okay?”

  I remained silent on the phone, my hand pressed to my throat. I suppressed the anger that threatened to bubble out of me. Why could Matt never stick to his word? Panic threaten to overtake my body as I looked around the festive room. How would I survive this party on my own? I hated parties. For the hundredth time, I questioned my sanity in planning this event.

  Matt sounded short. “Emily, you can’t be like this. I have to go.”

  “Fine.”

  “Love you.”

  I sighed and clicked off the phone without replying.

  Chapter 13

  Two hours later, I stood in my own version of hell. Music blasted, people talked and laughed. I was just a girl, standing alone, at her own party. I sipped my wine. I sighed, and looked down at my ring. I thought one benefit of getting engaged and married was so that you had the plus one who actually gave a fuck about you at parties. My throat tightened as I remembered the throaty female voice that answered his phone. I forced myself to not think about that.

  Four women surrounded Jackson. I folded my arms across my chest as I watched Julie trail one hand up his arm and then laughed as she squeezed his bicep. I gulped more wine. My University days flashed in front of my eyes. Friends tripped over themselves to capture Jackson’s attention. I predicted that Julie would win. I already envisioned Jackson tugging Julie’s hand as he discretely led her upstairs to his room.

  Julie waved at me. “Em, come over here.”

  With great reluctance, I fixed a smile on my lips and walked over.

  Julie studied me. “Wow, your lips look fantastic.”

  I swallowed and avoided looking in Jackson’s direction. “Thanks.”

  “My lips would look that good if I also could afford $40 lipstick,” she looked around the group. “But not all of us got so lucky in life.”

  “$5 lipstick from Walgreens,” I said lightly back.

  “So we were just bugging Jackson about his workouts,” Julie changed the subject.

  “Oh.”

  “He won’t tell us about the crazy things he does. He says that he just works out like everyone else.”

  I stared at her. What was she even talking about? This had to be the most inane conversation I have ever walked into. I took a big sip of my wine.

  I evaded making direct eye contact with him.

  “Are you going to tell us?” Julie urged. I looked at her. Her eyes burned bright, giving her a rather alarming look. She loved the conquest. This persona appeared when you mixed Julie, a hot man, wine and some competition together. No one really liked this side of her, mostly because she became a tiny bit scary in this mode.

  I gulped another sip of wine. She failed to make sense. “Tell you what?”

  “Tell us about Jackson’s workouts. We need to know how he created such a hard perfect body.”

  A few other women nodded and leaned in. This entire conversation mortified me. Is this how people flirted? It pained me to even listen. Jackson stared at me without expression.

 
; “I apologize for my friends,” I said to him. “They’re acting like they just broke out of a nunnery but this is unusual behaviour for them.”

  Jackson looked away. He struggled not to laugh.

  Julie’s laughter peeled so loud, she almost blew out my ear drum. “Maybe we just haven’t met someone of Jackson’s caliber.”

  I hadn’t realized that Jackson’s party experience was possibly worse than my own.

  Beth reached forward and squeezed my arm. “Do you mind lending me that soup cookbook you were telling me about?”

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief. That was our code for we needed to talk. “Absolutely. Come with me.”

  We walked away from the group.

  Beth grabbed my arm and leaned into my ear. “Julie is acting insane tonight. She’s barking way out of her league.”

  I sniffed. “She doesn’t seem to think so.”

  “He’s totally being nice about the fact that she is trying to molest him without ever giving her a single shred of hope that he is interested.”

  I looked across the room. Jackson listened politely to someone talk. “He’s a nice person.”

  “You didn’t lie. I'm confident that he’s about a thousand times hotter than the hockey player.”

  I took a deep breath. “Ever since he arrived, Matt has been missing in action.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea. Meanwhile, I'm trying to plan this wedding and Matt is no help. Jackson is a great houseguest but I just…”

  Beth’s gaze focused on mine. “I get it.”

  “You do?”

  “You’re basically living with a GQ model and your fiancé has fucked off. Shit gets complicated.”

  My breath gusted out of me. “I love Matt but I feel like I haven’t seen him, much less talked to him in weeks.” I lowered my voice and leaned in. “And Jackson is constantly working out with his shirt off. My car is in pieces so he's driving me everywhere.”

  Beth started to laugh. “And this is a problem why?”

  I shook my head. “He listens to me when I talk and he actually cares about things like my art and my job.”

  Beth gave me a sympathetic smile. “He’s treating you like you wished Matt would treat you.”