Page 32 of Beauty Of Her

Brett winced as if to confirm he was a terror. “Oh, that’s not important.” He dismissed me with a wave.

“Oh, it’s not, is it?” I bit my inner cheek, almost forgetting how great banter could be with the right person. The bartender stopped before us, and Brett ordered another round.

“I hope you’re not a lightweight.” Brett nudged my shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity to my core. The lightest touch from this man sent me into a delicious spiral.

“You don’t want to see me drunk.” I placed a hand on Brett’s thigh, and his muscles beneath my fingertips tensed.

“I want to see you in every way possible.”

I was about to come back with something witty, sure to knock Brett off his feet, but the loud ringtone of my phone pierced the moment. I fished it out of my bag, only for a frown to overcome my face. Why was Peter calling me? “It’s Peter.” I twisted my face, answering the call, while Brett placed his hand on mine, preventing me from slinking away. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Peter hissed.

“Excuse me?” I ground my molars as concern pooled in Brett’s bottomless orbs.

“You took a trip and didn’t warn me?” The venom pouring off Peter’s tongue clogged my ear. The disappointment in his voice kept me quiet, trying to figure out what he was talking about. “Do you have any idea how this looks?”

Brett squeezed my hand reassuringly while I struggled to digest Peter’s accusations. “Peter, calm down. The girls are fine if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You need to tell me when you’re not around and who is watching my children, Julia.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the custody arrangement works, but whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Brett, whose jaw clenched every two seconds.

“Who is with our girls this weekend?”

“Why? Are you suddenly available?” I shot back, pushing Brett’s hand away, needing space desperately. A sweat broke across my neck, and heat rose to my cheeks. I was coming undone by a man who wanted to make me miserable, and I was granting him that power.

“Of course not, but you should have asked me first.”

I bit back a laugh, shaking my head. I couldn’t even believe I was still talking to this guy who was the most entitled narcissistic asshole on Earth. “Amelia is staying with the girls at my house.”

“Oh, your house,” Peter teased.

“Yes, it’s my house.” I jabbed a finger into my chest.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Peter’s tone morphed into a mock, making my blood boil harder.

“I will!” I yelled.

“Are you with anyone?”

“It’s none of your business, Peter.”

“Why not? Is honesty that hard?” This fucking guy, Peter. How the hell did I ever marry someone like him?

I was about to respond, but Brett’s determined hand grabbed the phone from mine. “Julia is not alone. She’s with me.” Brett put the phone on speaker.

My eyes bulged, but I didn’t try to grab the phone from him. In a way, I needed to be saved, but I also felt ashamed. I should be able to deal with Peter or anyone when defending myself.

“Who the fuck is this?” Peter’s voice cracked.

“And let me tell you something,” Brett added, pointing to the phone. “I’ve been to Julia’s house, and I think it’s great.”

That was it. I slammed my hand over the phone but kept it on speaker.

“Are you the pool boy from the other week?” Peter asked.

“No, I’m the barbecue man,” Brett said, leaning over me.

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