Page 69 of The Plus One Contract

My heart nearly jumps out of my chest. I whip around. Nathan stands in the doorway, fists clenched, eyes burning with rage. The brother smirks, but I see a flicker of fear. They face each other in taut silence, two men who share the same bone structure but carry entirely different energies.

“Nate,” the brother drawls, “long time.”

“Not long enough,” Nathan hisses. “Sienna, come here.”

I obey instantly, a wave of relief crashing over me as I skirt around the brother’s chair. The tension in the cramped kitchen is suffocating. Nathan’s glare never leaves his brother’s face, not even when I reach his side.

He shoves the car keys into my hand, then brushes his thumb down my cheek in a gesture so tender it leaves me breathless.

“Wait in the car, baby,” he says, the possessive note in his voice sending a rush of warmth through me. He’s staking his claim for his brother to see. I’m untouchable, and we both know it.

I hesitate, glancing at the brother who’s sprawled in the chair again, that sneer on his lips. My gut wants to stay, but Nathan’s gaze is ironclad, commanding. The silent plea:Go. Trust me.

My throat bobs. “Okay,” I whisper. Even though I’d rather not leave him here to handle this alone, I can’t defy that look. Gently, I curl my fingers around the keys and slip out of the kitchen.

My pulse pounds all the way down the hall. I pass the living room, where Nathan’s mother now stands unsteadily, hurling slurred words at no one in particular. The entire house reeks of stale anger and rotting hopes. My chest aches with the realization that, for all his polished success, this is the environment he escaped.

Stepping onto the porch, the afternoon sunlight nearly blinds me. I cross to the SUV, the keys biting into my palm. Sliding into the passenger seat, I slam the door and lock it. My heart’s still racing, adrenaline flooding my veins. The brother’s seedy stare, the mother’s drunken manipulation, and Nathan’s absolute fury. How did he ever grow into the man he is?

My Google search wasn’t enough. He’s done everything to bury any mention of his past online. If anything, today only makes me more curious about the man inside.

It’s surreal. Just hours ago, we were playing dress-up in a fancy store, the tension purely sexual.

I can’t deny a newfound awe for him. Not in a romantic sense, though that is there too, gnawing at my mind, but in a deeper, more human sense. He built an empire from a foundation this broken?

I swallow hard, eyes on the front door. Even with the windows up, I can hear faint shouting. Nathan’s voice, low but furious. Then nothing. Silence, or maybe they’ve moved further inside. My knuckles whiten around the keys.

Is he safe?

The memory of him pinning Simon to the porch flares in my mind. The memory of him half-snarling at his brother. He’s more than capable of defending himself, but I still worry. This is his family. As awful as they seem, there’s no easy out for him.

Minutes trickle by, slow and suffocating. The sun bakes the car. I crack the window open for air, refusing to turn on the AC in case I need to hear some sign of trouble.

A clang inside the house startles me. My pulse jolts, but then it fades. Another minute drags on, then two, then five. My phone sits on the passenger seat, tempting me to text him. I decide to wait it out.

It hits me how bizarrely I trust him. After all, we’re practically strangers, roped together by a business arrangement. Yet I trust him enough to ride along on a family rescue mission. Strange how quickly illusions of distance can dissolve in the face of real vulnerability.

Finally, the door creaks open. I sit up, heart hammering. It’s not Nathan. It’s the brother again, stepping onto the porch. He lights a cigarette, scowls at the afternoon glare, then stomps back inside.

Time crawls.

At last, Nathan steps out, his chest rising in a heavy sigh. He closes the front door behind him and stalks down the porch steps. Our eyes lock through the windshield, and my heart twists with relief.

He climbs into the driver’s seat.

I look at him, searching his expression. “Are you…”

“I’m fine,” he snaps, though the tremor in his voice betrays him. Knuckles tight on the wheel, he avoids my gaze. “Let’s get out of here.”

Twenty-Six

Nathan

Driving away from my mother’s house is like peeling off a layer of shame from my skin. It clings anyway, thick and suffocating. Sienna is quiet in the passenger seat, fiddling with a piece of hair that has escaped her ponytail. I can feel her eyes flick to me every few seconds, but she doesn’t say a word.

I usually don’t know where I’ll be for business from one week to the next, but I’m in California regularly for work. My mother has a knack for timing her meltdowns the instant I’m in state, like she’s got some built-in radar for maximum chaos. Every time, I tell myself I won’t pick up the phone. And every time, I do.

Finally, the silence becomes too loud. “You sure you’re okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level. “After…that?”

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