Page 44 of You Complicate Me

Her answering laugh reached right down into his pants and grabbed hold of his dick, giving it a nice, firm tug. “Yeah, that’s exactly what they teach you in law school. How to argue and be hot at the same time.”

He was about to say something else—something terribly witty and charming, he was sure—when Grace stumbled to a stop beside him. He followed her gaze and couldn’t hold back a disgusted sigh.

DoucheBrad.

The little fucker was leaning against Grace’s door, waiting for her.

Brad straightened to his full height—which still only put the top of his head to just about Nick’s shoulder, so, ha!—as they approached. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in Nick’s direction, instead giving Grace his full, bespectacled attention.

“Grace, may I please have a moment of your time?” he intoned in that uppity British accent of his that grated on Nick’s nerves like sandpaper.

Nick shook his head in disgust. Now the guy was all polite and respectful. Where were all those good manners when you were fucking around on Grace, doucheBrad?

Beside him, Grace sighed. “Brad, I really don’t know what else we have to say to each other. The divorce was finalized months ago. Final means final, as far as I’m concerned.”

Nick did a mental fist pump. Take that, doucheBrad.

The little fucker cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up with his index finger before fixing her with a look Nick had only ever seen puppies at the pound accomplish before. “Please, Grace,” Brad said. “Only a moment. That’s all I ask.”

Pathetic, Nick thought, unable to stop his upper lip from curling up in derision. If he thought Grace was going to fall for sad puppy-dog eyes and a half-assed, sorrowful…

Grace let out another deep sigh and laid her hand on Nick’s arm. “Nick, can you excuse us for a just a moment?”

Wait…what? He shook his head in disbelief. Clearly, he hadn’t heard her right. “Grace, you can’t be serious. How can you even consider giving this guy—”

Her eyes narrowed on him ever so slightly. “Nick, I’m completely serious. The only thing I’m considering is having an adult conversation with a man I used to be married to. Why are you looking at me like I’ve just sprouted a third breast?”

The third breast thing threw him off his train of thought for a minute, but he rallied as quickly as possible. “This is a guy that jerked you around. Treated you like crap. A guy that showed up here, unannounced, at a family event to try and win you back. And just like that”—he snapped his fingers—“you’re going to give him what he wants? I thought you were tougher than that.”

“Now, see here,” Brad sputtered.

“Shut up, Brad,” Nick and Grace hissed in unison.

Grace’s spine stiffened as she glared up at Nick. “Having a conversation with the man doesn’t mean I forgive him for everything he did. What do you think is going to happen if I talk to him? That I’m going to fall on my back with my legs up in the air just because he utters a half-assed apology or two?”

Nick leaned into her space with a sneer and said, “Why not? I didn’t even have to apologize to get you to wrap your legs around me in that elevator.”

If he could’ve reversed the earth’s rotation to turn back time like Superman did in that old Christopher Reeve movie to snatch the words back, Nick would have done it. It was a horrible thing to say. And shit, he didn’t even mean it. He was just jealous and pissed off. But the words were out there now, and by the way Grace’s face completely shut down, it was way too late to call them back.

True to form, Grace composed herself quickly, her features taking on an icy calm that made Nick way more nervous than any glare or well-deserved punch to the junk ever could. “Well, I guess there’s really no point in discussing this further if that’s what you think of me. Goodbye, Nick.”

That very final sounding goodbye knifed him right in the heart. Moving quickly so she didn’t have time to punch him (like he so richly deserved), he slid his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a short, hard kiss on the mouth. “It’s goodnight, Grace. Not goodbye. We’re not done yet. Not by a longshot.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Grace stared at the empty spot in the hallway where Nick had just been, still struggling to comprehend what the hell happened.

Everything had been going so well. Dinner had been lovely. Well, not lovely, she supposed. No one had gotten hurt, which put it at least in the top five family dinners she’d ever had. But Nick had been lovely. Kind, attentive, funny, sexy as all hell…Nick O’Connor had been a picture-perfect dinner date.

Until he’d turned into a six-foot-something, 190-pound, Incredible Hulk of jealous dumbfuckery.

Ugh. To insinuate that she was some kind of easily manipulated skank who’d wrap her legs around anyone who whispered a few kind words to her was beyond insulting. He was lucky she hadn’t throat-punched him. Jerk.

But he didn’t really lie, the lawyer half of her brain argued. You did wrap your legs around him after some kind words, only a few days after meeting him.

“Oh, shut up. No one asked you,” she muttered.

Brad cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously with the cuffs of his white dress shirt. “But I didn’t say anything, darling.”

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