Page 33 of The Wrong Brother

Oh boy. No sentence ever turned out well when someone said her name with such anguish without saying anything else.

Since she was afraid of what he would say, she didn’t say anything. What could she say? If he wanted to leave, she couldn’t stop him. And as much as she wanted to beg, she had never begged a man in her life for anything, and she wasn’t about to start now.

Although she was tempted. Dane seemed worth a little begging.

“I still think the air needs to be cleared. I thought we cleared it well enough before we even hit this bed the first time. But...we didn’t.”

She cringed inside. Oh, here it comes. The same damn question. She wasn’t sure if she could answer it. She wanted to. It burned deep inside to let him know. But how would he react?

“Champ’s younger than me by two years. He’s always been the golden boy. He thinks our mom favors me while I know our dad favors him. I always tell him that evens everything out. He floats through life like it’s one big joke. He’s never had to work for anything in his life. College… Yeah, I’m pretty sure he paid other people to do his work. Sports… Always handed the best position even when he didn’t work hard enough for it. Job… Our dad retires and hands over the reins when he barely lifted a finger in the company beforehand. I work my ass off at that company, and that’s the respect I get. I’m the oldest.”

He wove his fingers through her hand, clasping tightly. “I’m not jealous, even if I made it sound like I am. I like working hard. I don’t want anything handed to me. It doesn’t feel right. He can have it. His behavior will come back to bite him in the ass someday. I’ll be there to laugh and say, ‘I told you so.’ I don’t hate Champ, but I barely respect him. I’m not even sure how the distance between us happened. I think it was always there from the beginning. I remember when I was about five. Champ was three and was throwing a ball back and forth with our dad. He was catching them with ease and throwing back as if he was born to do it. I remember my dad saying, ‘That’s my champ. That’s how’s it done, son.’ Then he looked at me and said, ‘Why can’t you be like your brother?’ That’s not the only time my father has said those words to me. I’m not very athletic.”

“Champ’s not his real name, is it?” she asked softly, almost afraid to interrupt him. She wasn’t sure why he was suddenly sharing all of this information, but she wanted to hear it. Soak it up like a sponge.

“It’s David. My dad called him champ one day, and it stuck. My mom supports me and loves me and encourages me to do whatever I want. My dad…I don’t know. I think he wishes Champ was the oldest son. He seems to have more pride in him than in me. But that’s okay. I’m happy. I love my work. That’s what matters.” He shrugged. “So, that’s the issue between my brother and me. Nothing spectacular. I’m sure other people have it worse. It’s rare, but we have moments where we get along.”

“I know you love your work. What I don’t understand is why you stay there. You could build your own company and create your own success. You’d never have to nicely ask your secretary to bring your brother files.”

She smiled, hoping a little light teasing would elicit a small smile from him. She was rewarded for her efforts.

“You’re the only one I ever asked. I made everyone else do it without arguing with me.”

“Of course, you did, you hardass,” she said with a laugh.

“I don’t know why I’ve never branched out on my own. Maybe I’m still hoping one day my dad will say how proud he is of me.” He looked away, releasing a lame laugh. “How’s that for sharing my feelings? I’ve never said anything like this to any woman before. You make me want to share, to make this relationship work.”

His words lingered in the room like the aftereffects from a loud bang of thunder in the distance.

Her heart started to pound. Giddy, yet frightened.

He met her gaze, his lips tilted up in a sweet, adorable grin. “That’s what I want. A relationship.”

She grabbed his face, his scratchy stubble melting her insides. So rough on the outside, yet so tender on the inside. She wanted to rub her cheek against his. Feel him everywhere. Soak up every part of him, inside and out.

“Me, too. I want that so much.” She inhaled and let out her breath gradually. “Thank you for sharing. And I meant what I said. You should start your own company. You’d do wonderfully at it. I know it.”

He leaned forward, kissing her. She dropped her hands from his chin to wind around his neck. Before she could dive in and truly claim his mouth, he pulled away. “Imagine how much more I would be working if I started my own company. I’d never see you. My mind is always focused on work that I’m trying to figure out how to even see you now.”

She gave him a stern look. “Mister, you better make time for me. I will not compete with your job. I know you would never cheat on me…with a woman. That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t with your job.”

“Give me a smile.” He cracked his own silly grin. “I hate the look you’re giving me right now. I won’t cheat on you with my job. I will make time for you. I promise, Gabriella. I want this to work. I’m sorry for the things I said earlier. I don’t want to leave tonight.”

Her expression changed from serious to sultry because she didn’t want him leaving anytime soon, either. “I’m sorry, too. Makeup sex sounds fun.”

“Is it fast and dirty?” His eyes glittered with mischief as he let her hand go and stood up.

“For you, I’ll be as dirty as you want me to be.” She bit her lip coyly as she ran a finger down her stomach and stopped at the edge of her pants.

His eyes flashed with desire, and a delicious grin etched across his face as he took his clothes off again—everything except his boxers. He nodded his head to the other side of the bed. “Scoot over, sweetheart. You’re sitting on my side. Don’t make me spank your ass.”

Her eyebrows lifted, considering her options. Spanking might be fun. But then she decided to move when his eyes said he wasn’t joking. She had upset him—twice. He might spank her hard, and she wasn’t sure if she was into that kind of dirtiness.

She moved over, the happiness in her heart starting to drop back to normal. Ten minutes ago, she thought she lost him forever. Now, here he was climbing back into her bed, almost gloriously naked.

She removed her pants and dove under the covers. Two could play this game. He hadn’t taken off his boxers, she could tease him by hiding part of herself. She shifted closer when he joined her under the blankets. His arms reached around her, pulling her close.

“This is much better. I don’t like fighting with you.”

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