Page 53 of Inked Persuasion

I blinked, wondering where that train of thought had come from. “Not really. I was thinking that the movie was going one way, and they ended it weird and abruptly, probably because they didn’t want it to be happy. Not that they needed happiness, but because they ruined the ending by trying to be subversive.”

“I agree. I didn’t expect you to see it that way. It’s not like you read romance novels or like chick flicks.”

I snorted. “No, not so much. But my mom loves them, so I’ll never disparage them.”

“You do, and you will not only incur the wrath of your mother but me, as well.”

“I wouldn’t want that,” I said, teasing.

“Dinner was good, though,” she said, moving away a bit.

“Dinner was great,” I said, patting my stomach. “Of course, going from bulgogi and dumplings straight to movie theater popcorn probably wasn’t the greatest idea. I don’t have too much time to work out tomorrow with my deadlines.”

“I’m thinking of either getting a standing desk, which I sort of already have with my drawing boards, or one of those little exercise bikes that go right under your seat. It can probably sit under my desk. I’ll look weird during meetings.”

“I wonder if Dustin could get me one of those. Of course, then he’d want one, and so would Seressia and Lucas, and we’d all be working out as we tried to get our briefs ready.”

“Maybe it’d get rid of some of the tension. I know your job isn’t easy.”

I shrugged. “It’s not like yours is.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to talk about work. It just makes me all grumpy and gets me thinking about my father, and I’m not in the mood to do that.”

“Are you going to stand up to him?” I asked, not sure why I said the words at all.

“That’s easier said than done. And, technically, while I could stand up to him, it wouldn’t matter all that much because I’m not the one who needs to do it.”

“Beckett?” I said, frowning again.

“Yes. Beckett’s the one who pretty much took over the job from Dad. And while Beckett does an amazing job and is brilliant, it’s hard to flourish when Dad is always looking over his shoulder all the time, holding a grudge against people who aren’t fighting back because they don’t care.”

“The other Montgomerys aren’t at war with you?”

“Not in the slightest. The Denver Montgomerys…” She sighed. “Honestly, I don’t even know if they realize my dad has a vendetta against them. It’s so weird. He feels inferior to his brothers-in-law, my uncles, or something. I don’t know, but it makes things so complicated, and it’s not like we’re even in competition with them. We’re in different markets. And while, yes, I do talk to Storm, my counterpart in the company, we like being creative together. It’s not like he’s stealing from me, or I’m doing that to him. Beckett and Wes work together well, too. None of it makes any sense to me.”

“I think you’ll all be able to talk it out and move on someday. But until then, it’s going to be complicated.”

“That’s an understatement. It’s already a little too much for me to bear most days. I don’t like the man my father is becoming. And I don’t like the idea that my mother stands back and lets it happen, even though it’s her family.”

“What about your father’s siblings?” I asked.

She shrugged. “They don’t live in the state, so we don’t see them as often. But it’s one big happy family—or at least happier than my dad with my mother’s family. I hate that I can’t fix it without yelling at my dad. And I don’t want to be that person. Nobody wants me to be that person.”

“I understand,” I said and then reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Now, enough of that. We should probably get home soon. We both have early days.” I looked down at her then, and she smiled. Something twisted inside me. Why was I doing this?

This wasn’t what I wanted. Things were getting far too serious, far too quickly. We would both end up hurt in the end, and we were tarnishing Jonah’s memory just standing here with each other, pretending that we weren’t thinking about anything serious.

Or maybe I was thinking too hard, and we were both on the same page. This had to be sex and us being friends. Nothing more. And maybe even a whole lot less.

“Yes, let’s get home.” She paused. “I mean, to our homes.” She blushed. “You know what I mean.”

I snorted. “Yes, I do. Come on.” Suddenly, there was a crack of lightning above us, and I looked up, then down at her. We both laughed. Rain dropped down on us in a deluge, pounding against our skin, splattering the pavement below us, and bouncing back up onto our legs. I took Annabelle’s hand, and we ran towards the car, passing others as some danced in the rain, and others ran with us.

“Was it supposed to rain?” she called out over the sounds of the storm, and I shrugged, getting to the car first so I could unlock the door. “I wasn’t expecting it to, but it’s Colorado. Who knows?”

We both slid into the car, and I turned on the engine, shaking my head. “This is ridiculous. Should we wait here or drive through it?”

“Let me look on the app,” she said and pulled out her phone. She bit her lip, and I wanted to reach out and tug her close, lick away the sting.

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