Page 25 of Reunion With Benefits

“Think of this more as a conversation. One that will benefit you, if you play the game right.” He leaned down with his elbows on the banister and surveyed the property as if he owned it. “After all, you wouldn’t want Derrick or Spence to think you betrayed them.”

The word twisted in her head. Now that he’d planted it, she doubted she’d think of anything else. “I didn’t.”

Jeff stood up straight again and stared down at her, letting his gaze wander all over her. “You will.”

The look wasn’t predatory. This was a power play. Another one she’d walked into the middle of thanks to her work. “Don’t even try it, Jeff.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Word is Spence is sniffing around you again. You wouldn’t want to mess that up.”

“Go to hell.”

He winked at her. “We’ll talk soon.”

* * *

Spence started up the carved staircase running up the middle of the house. It rose then stopped at a landing and split with separate staircases going off to the right and left. As kids, he and his brothers would race cars down the steps, but only when his parents weren’t home to yell about the game.

This time when he looked up at the landing, he saw strappy high-heel shoes and long legs. Amazing legs. Like, killer those-things-should-be-insured legs. The edge of a purple cocktail dress. A little higher as his gaze slipped over her hips then on up.

Abby.

His heart revved. He could feel his blood pressure spike. All that talk about her and love, and there she was.

She walked down the stairs, taking her time. Enticing with a slight sway of her hips. Mentally slicing his control to shreds as she took each step. She stopped on the one above him but didn’t say anything.

“There you are.” His gaze met hers and the picture in his head—the one of them together, him stripping that dress off her shoulders—screeched to a halt in his head.

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She scanned the downstairs as if looking for someone and not wanting to see them. His dad, maybe? Whatever was happening inside her had her looking uncharacteristically shaky and unsure.

He reached out for her hand and was surprised when she grabbed on. “Hey, are you okay?”

He guided her down to the floor, hearing the click of her heels against the polished hardwood. He slipped her hand under his arm and touched her fingers. Ice-cold.

With the fake smile in place, she cleared her voice before answering. “Fine.”

“That’s not really believable.”

She shook her head. “Spence, I can’t discuss this right now.”

“Okay, wait. You’re obviously upset.” He guided her around the banister and into a hall. It ran the length of the right side of the house.

Leaning against the wall, he tried to block their view from the people walking in and out of the house. Many stopped and stared at the artwork trailing up the staircase and the massive chandelier hanging in the center hall. Others smiled on the way to one of the house’s nine bathrooms a few doors down.

A thousand thoughts streamed through his head. He blamed his father for putting her in this state. He also played a part. So did too much work. There was a lot of responsibility to go around, but he wanted to lessen the burden. “Talk to me.”

“I’m on edge and...” She shook her hands in front of her, like she was trying to get the feeling back in them.

He had no idea what was going on in her head but the aching need he had for her turned into something else. “What is it? Tell me so I can help.”

She looked at him then. Met his gaze straight on. “I have all of this energy bouncing around inside me. Add in alcohol and, well, it’s a combination for bad decisions.”

“Am I a bad decision?” He knew the answer but asked anyway.

Her gaze traveled over him. Hesitated on his mouth, then dipped lower. To the base of his throat. “The absolute worst.”

That look. It was almost as if... What the hell was happening? He grabbed on to the last of his common sense. Something was wrong. She didn’t seem like herself and there was no way he was going to take advantage of that. “Maybe you should go upstairs and rest and then we can—”

“Kiss me.”

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