Forever Branded (Billionaire Love Series #1) (12 page)

“So what does that have to do with today?”

“Everything. I just saw her at a party and I can’t get her out of my head.”

He nodded. “Ah, I see. Old wounds surfacing. Have you talked to her since you saw her at the party?”

“No. I just don’t think I can control myself around her. I want to either kill her or kiss her. All I know is I want her to suffer.”

“Whoa, she’s definitely messed you up, man.”

“You could say that.”

“So, what happens when you punish her? What’s next?”

I wiped my head with a towel. “I don’t know...I just want to make her hurt.”

“Ah, Beau. Nothing good comes from wanting to hurt another.”

“Maybe, but I can’t see past what she did to me.”

“I understand. But maybe you don’t have the whole picture. Do you even know her side of the story?”

“What side? She didn’t want to be with me. She made sure I walked away. But man, when I saw her again, she looked as good as she did twenty years ago when I still loved her.”

“When you still loved her? Are you telling me you’re over her?”

I shook my head fiercely in denial. “No, I don’t think I’ll ever be over her. I just can’t get over how much she still affects me after all these years.”

“So, shouldn’t you talk to her and see if you can put a peaceful lid on the past?”

“Nah, not interested.”

He nodded, his fierce gaze shadowed with doubt. “There is still time for you to come to your senses. But for now, let us continue our workout.”

“All right. What’s next?” I asked, hopping up.

“Hit the speed bag and I want you to practice the combination jab, cross hook. Mix it up, though. Let it come naturally, like you’re in the ring.”

“Got it.”

“Are you ready for your match?” he asked as I stepped in front of the speed bag.

“Yeah, I am. I love preparing for a fight.” Every once in a while I climbed into the octagon and conquered my demons.

I went at it for another couple of hours, clearing my mind and planning my next steps with Marla. I heard what Ibrahima said, but I didn’t care. I wanted her to feel my influence over her life.

I got out my cell phone and dialed my head of security as I left training. “How’s it going, Mitch? Got anything yet?” I asked as soon as he answered.

“Still working on it, boss. But I can tell you, she owns a salon called Casa Oshun.”

I immediately had an idea. “Perfect. Listen, I need you to put a bug in the ear of Jim McGovern down at the state health department. I need a favor.”

“You got it, boss. What do you want me to tell him?”

“Tell him there are some major problems at Marla’s salon. Tell him to put it on notice that it is in danger of being shut down.”

“Any particular reason?” Mitch asked.

“Just make it unpleasant… how about something unsanitary?”

That would get under Marla’s skin.

“Okay, will do,” he told me.

“Let me know when it’s done.”

“On it.”

I could never do anything halfway with Marla.

Even when I was in high school.

When I sensed she was wavering in her resistance to tutor me, I made sure to strike while the iron of her kindness was hot. I tracked her down during lunch a couple of days after I took her home. I got the scoop from a friend of hers and headed out to the school’s greenhouse.

I smelled the wet dirt, which seemed to be everywhere, as I walked through the thin screen door of the greenhouse. Thousands of plants were all over the cheap looking green dome.

Why the hell would Marla be out here?

I found her standing over a table, drip feeding a dying plant.

“Come on, little guy. I know you can make it,” she encouraged as she put him back down on the crude wood top holding a bunch of other small plants.

“Do you talk to all the plants?” I asked from behind her.

“Aah!” She let out a frightened gasp as she shot up and turned toward me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” I offered apologetically.

“How did you find me?” she asked, her eyes still wide.

“I’ve got my spies. I knew who to talk to.”

“You mean Stacy?” she asked as she grinned, finally relaxing.

“Maybe. Why are you out here?”

“Sometimes I like to spend my lunch out among the plants,” she offered, pointing to a brown sack lunch.

“Why?”

“It’s relaxing. The plants are always glad to see me. Unlike some people, they like the time and attention I give to them.”

“That’s kinda weird.”

She cocked her head defensively as she put her hands on her hips. “Why is that? Plants are living things that have a special job. They give us oxygen, share their bounty, and give us something beautiful to look at. What’s weird is that you don’t get how important Mother Nature is to our well-being.”

I grinned, enjoying her feisty explanation. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Show me.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “I’m not sure I want to.”

I shot her a coaxing grin. “Come on. You see things so differently than any other girl I’ve ever known.”

“Really?” She studied me suspiciously.

“Yeah, really.”

She uncrossed her arms as she sized me up. “All right,” she finally said. “Follow me.”

She pointed to a large table full of individual plants which were beginning to bud. “Over here, we keep the vegetables and herbs. Can you smell that?” she asked as we both took a big whiff of the air.

Over the dirt, I did smell traces of mint, rosemary, and one of my favorite spices.

“Do I smell oregano?” I loved Italian food.

“Yep.” She reached over to a little plant and ran her hand up and down its budding green leaves. “Smell it.” She offered her hand and sure enough, it smelled of fresh oregano.

“Nice.”

From there, she took me around, introducing me to a completely new world of nature. I had no idea plants did so much for us.

“These are pansies.” Her face lit up, her voice soothing as she tenderly caressed a curved leaf.

The sun glinted off her long, dark hair and I had the sudden urge to wrap her glossy locks around my fingers just to feel its silkiness.

At the time, I didn’t know how attracted I was to her. I thought this was how it was with most girls. The insatiable lust, which ran through my blood beating out her name repeatedly.

But I have never felt that way again. No matter what hot model or bimbo I had beneath me, no one ever came close to making my blood run hot like Marla Matthews.

She glanced at me then, her big doe brown eyes suddenly soft. “This was my mom’s favorite flower.” She held up a pot of yellow daisies.

“Was? Is your mom not around anymore?”

She hung her head. “No, she isn’t.”

My heart went out to her. “Ah, Sunshine. That’s rough.”

Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Yeah, it happened about a year ago. She died from brain cancer. It’s just me and Emma, now,” her voice was laced with grief.

Damn, I didn’t like hearing that.

I reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear, wanting to make her feel better.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said as I leaned into her, overcome with the need to be close to her. I could smell the strawberry shampoo coming from her shiny, soft hair.

“You have the prettiest hair, Marla Matthews,” I said, picking up a few strands and rubbing them between my thumb and pointer finger.

It was just as soft as it looked.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, blushing.

Her sexy lips parted, sparking something intense inside me.

“I wanted to say I was sorry for the other day. I shouldn’t have called you boring. You are most definitely not boring.” My lips hovered over hers as I dared myself to kiss her.

She gently pushed me away. “Thank you for saying that. But this doesn’t mean you get to take liberties with me,” she explained as I struggled to control my attraction to her.

“Liberties?” I asked in confusion.

“Yeah, liberties, like taking advantage of me.”

I smiled wickedly, hoping to charm her. “A little sugar doesn’t hurt anybody.”

“Maybe. But I don’t throw my affections around lightly, Beau Shepard.”

“Affections? You sound like Jane Eyre,” I teased.

“I might be old-fashioned, but I can’t afford to be your conquest of the moment. You don’t even seem to care about your grades. Why would I think you could care about me?”

Whoa. That was heavy.

I shoved my hand into my front pocket. “I learned not to care about much a long time ago.” Marla brought out an honesty in me I had never experienced with another person.

“Why?”

“It was just easier than pretending I was smart.”

Her gaze softened; her brown eyes bright with warmth. “Oh, I think you’re plenty smart, Beau Shepard.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yeah.” Her gentle gaze studied me. “I want you to tell me the real reason you don’t like English class.”

I looked away, stripped of my usual confidence. “Reading has always been hard for me.”

Her face lit up with understanding as I glanced back at her. “Ah...Now, I get it. That’s why you’ve been working overtime to avoid reading
Jane Eyre
. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Because I didn’t want to see that look of pity on your face.”

“It’s not pity. It’s compassion. Everyone has their struggles.”

“Yeah, but my dad says weakness isn’t acceptable.”

“If there wasn’t weakness in the world, how would any of us get stronger?” she countered.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”

“Yeah, we all have things that are hard for us. It shouldn’t stop you from trying.”

I shook my head and grinned. “Are you always this optimistic?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I choose to stay positive because the alternative is to become bitter and negative, and I don’t want to live like that.”

“How did you become so wise?” he asked, his blue eyes full of wonder.

“I don’t know. I just always follow my heart.”

“So is your heart willing to help me with my paper?” I asked, hoping it was the perfect time to pop the question.

She sized me up, cocking her head to one side and sighed. “All right, I’ll tutor you.”

“Yes!” I said, throwing my hands up in victory.

“You’re not going to complain about being bored?”

I put my hand over my heart. “You’ve got my word, Sunshine. In fact, I wanted to see if you wanted to come over to my house for dinner tonight and help me do a little work on my paper.”

“Are you serious?” She took a step backward, looking scared.

I grinned widely, trying to put her at ease. “Absolutely.”

“You’re being real here, right? You’re not trying to be mean or nasty are you?”

I shook my head in denial.“No, not at all. Just come to dinner, Sunshine.”

Her body relaxed as she realized I was being sincere. “Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“No, I can take the bus. I just have to arrange for Emma to be watched, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good. But I’m still gonna pick you up, Sunshine. Remember, I already know where you live. So be ready at seven.”

She finally gave me a genuine smile. “All right, all right, I’ll be ready.”

“That’s more like it,” I said, feeling like I had won the game of my life.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Marla:

Pleasure.

The act of surrendering to your sensual self for no other reason than you want to. I practiced this concept as often as I could. I regularly took long baths, savored my favorite jasmine tea daily, and reveled in my lip gloss collection.

But even those weren’t enough to keep me from teetering on the edge of an emotional wipeout after seeing Beau again. He was a curveball that had me completely out of whack.

I realized this fact on a Tuesday afternoon in early July as I mixed up a combination of rose hips, yogurt, and honey to use as a mask at the salon. Tiredness overtook me as I put the brush back in the dish and sat back in revelation.

Drip,

Drip.

Like a leaky faucet, I had been doling out my grace trying to hold it together as I battled old feelings and anxieties. I was in dire need of a little pampering, so I could recharge my batteries.

I asked Beth, the other massage therapist at Casa Oschun, to give me a massage at the end of the day. I climbed up on her table and she worked miracles on my tense body. I was so much more relaxed as I headed home.