Pure Lust Vol. 3 (14 page)

Spinning around, I stared at Cody. His features were similar to his half-brother’s though Flynn’s had a rougher edge, but they were night and day different in personality. How could they be so different? How could Cody be such a great guy and Flynn be such…such…?

“Your brother is an
ass
!”

Cody’s brows arched over his eyes. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair. “Okay, I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume we’re not talking about Edward. That means…”

“Flynn!” I half-shouted it. “That jerk called me over for a shoot. I wanted to say no, but any time I’ve tried, he’s made me think he’s going to show Edward the pictures from my first shoot with him. So I went. I get
there…and he’s all…” I floundered for a minute, trying to think of how to describe it. I ended up growling inarticulately.

Cody blew out a breath. “Okay. First, take a deep breath and calm down.”

“I don’t want to calm down.” I sulked as I huffed out of the kitchen and flung myself down on the couch. Something hard was under my butt and I fished it out, then stared at the remote. Wanting to throw it, I instead dropped it onto the cushion next to me before crossing my arms over my chest. No. I didn’t want to calm down, but I’d do a lot better if I did.

So I took a deep breath, then another. As Cody came and sat down on the coffee table in front of me, I managed to suck in one more breath and thought I could finally talk relatively calmly.

“He apologized.”

Cody’s mouth curved into a half-smile, his expression clearly confused. After he raked his uninjured hand through his hair, he said, “You have to help me out here, Gabs. He apologized, and that pissed you off?”

“Yes—no.” Groaning, I shoved the heels of my hands against my eyes. “It’s more complicated than that.”

I made myself slow down and explain everything. From how oddly quiet Flynn had been, to the way he watched me all through the shoot, to the apology, even the kiss. Cody was the only person besides Kendra who knew that I’d slept with Flynn before I’d met Edward, and the only one who knew the total extent of all the shit I’d been putting up with.

I finished up with the real problem. “And now he says that even though he’s not planning on showing the pictures to Edward, he won’t give them to me.”

With his head bowed, Cody rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the floor. He didn’t say anything for so long, I was starting to think that maybe I’d pissed him off too and felt a surge of guilt. This was his brother, after all. Both of his brothers. I hated him being caught in the middle.

Finally, he looked up at me and said, “Look, I don’t know what to think here. I can honestly say that I don’t see Flynn showing the pictures to Edward. I mean, his default position is acting like a jackass, but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt you or Edward, not like that.”

“He’s hurt me before,” I reminded him, my stomach twisting at the memory of the days I’d spent thinking I’d cheated on Edward during a night of drunken stupidity.

“Reflex.” Cody gave me a weak smile. “When Flynn gets hurt, he strikes back. Not the most mature way of handling things, but it’s Flynn’s way. The pictures, though, that wouldn’t be reflex. That would be planned and that’s just not him. He’s not malicious.”

I wanted to argue the point, but I stayed silent. I’d only known Flynn a short while. Cody had watched his brother grow up and he was always honest about both of his brothers’ shortcomings. He reached out and took one of my hands, holding it.

“Flynn…he…” Cody paused, clearly having to think through what he wanted to say. Finally, he said, “Flynn doesn’t let himself get attached to people. I don’t know what the deal is. I guess none of us ever saw a real relationship—our parents…” He laughed. “Mom and Dad have something that’s more like a business relationship than a marriage. I’m sure you heard about how they met when my mother was looking for a boarding school for us. I don’t remember my dad, and Edward barely does. I was barely two when he died; Edward was four. Albert’s the only father the two of us have ever really known and he is Flynn’s dad, so it isn’t like we’ve really had the best example when it’s come to how relationships are supposed to work.”

My heart twisted at the thought of Edward and Cody losing their father at such young ages. “That’s sad.”

“It’s reality.” Cody shrugged. Then he leaned a little closer, eyes narrowing as he studied me. “Gabriella…do you—hell. Look, do you feel anything for Flynn?”

I jerked my hand away from his and stood up. “I’m engaged. To Edward, remember?”

“I know that. It’s just—”

“No!” I spun away from him, a hot wash of blood rushed to my cheeks to stain my face even as my stomach churned. “There’s no
just
anything. I’m in love with Edward. I’m engaged to marry him. Remember?”

“Oh, I know.” Cody lifted a shoulder and gave me a tired smile. “It’s just...Gabs, you get this look in your eye when you talk about Flynn. Or to him. You don’t have it when you talk about Edward.”

***

I called Paul.

I should have opted to navigate the nightmare that could be the New York City public transport, but I was tired and stressed and I didn’t want to. Sadly, because I was tired and stressed, and had taken the easy way out, as I sat in the car, wrapped in cool, blissful silence, I couldn’t stop myself from replaying what Cody had said to me.

You get this look in your eye…

Now a hundred, maybe even two hundred retorts came to mind, but it was too late to say any of them.

I could have said,
Yeah, it’s called disgust.

Cody, don’t you know what annoyance is?

It’s exasperation because Flynn is nothing more than a spoiled child.

But even I knew they were feeble attempts to cover the confusion, because I didn’t know what look he was talking about. Not exactly anyway. The way I felt about Flynn, around Flynn, was so damn confusing.

Worrying my ring, I sat there staring at the bright stone and trying to understand just what it was Cody thought he saw, trying to understand what it was I felt when Flynn kissed me. Something I knew I didn’t feel when Edward kissed me. It was a mix of frustration and heat and…
need
.

The word whispered through my brain and as soon as it did, I shoved it away.

I didn’t need Flynn. I didn’t need anything from him, except for him to give me the pictures and then leave me alone.

As if on cue, my phone chimed. Looking around, I saw that we were still a good thirty minutes away from Edward’s elegant home, trapped in the concrete canyons of the city. I pulled out my phone and slid Paul a look from under my lashes before I read the text.

The pictures are mine, Tennessee. They’re in good hands, so you can relax. But I’m not giving them to you.

I wanted to lash out. I wanted to call him back and scream at him, demand a straight-forward answer as to why he was determined to make things so difficult.

Instead, I deleted the message and tucked the phone away. I wasn’t conceding, but rather giving myself time to regroup and plan my next attempt. My dad had once told me I had a way of getting the things I wanted because I simply didn’t give up. This wouldn’t be any different. Somewhat calmed, I focused on the rest of the evening ahead of me.

I thought I’d chase everybody out of the kitchen and make Edward dinner myself.

We could listen to something low and bluesy. Have some wine. Maybe dance.

Whatever it was Cody thought he didn’t see? It didn’t matter.

I was in love with Edward. I wore his ring.

We were getting married.

That
was what mattered.

That was all that mattered.

***

I felt somewhat serene as I entered the house, shooting Paul a smile before I closed the door behind me. The smile wobbled, crashed, fell as a laugh echoed through the house. The sound of that laugh was like an icepick jabbing into my ear and I was tempted to disappear back outside.

I didn’t though.

I lived here, dammit. I wasn’t going to let my insecurities around Stacia Vanderbilt get to me. Instead, I mentally squared my shoulders and strode farther into the house, stopping in the door of the sitting room when I saw them. Edward was standing close to the fireplace, Stacia sitting on the couch, her lovely, long legs crossed, a coy smile on her face. She leaned forward, gazing at him with those wide, near-black eyes.

Edward saw me and his face lit up.

Hers didn’t.

Within seconds, that coy smile was replaced by a familiar sly one, not that Edward noticed as he came around the couch to greet me. “Sweetheart.” His mouth pressed to mine, quick and soft, before he pulled back. Mustn’t be overly affectionate in front of guests. “Stacia dropped by.”

“So I see.” Southern manners don’t die easily so I gave her a polite nod and smile while I seriously considered the repercussions of grabbing Edward and hauling him to me for a long, deep kiss.

“Gabriella.” Her eyes ran over the nice, but simple jeans and blouse I’d chosen for the day.

I hadn’t planned on doing much, so it wasn’t like I’d needed to dress up. One of the benefits of being self-employed was setting your own dress code for regular days.

“You look tired, my dear. The wedding plans wearing you down? I hear you’re doing a lot of the work yourself.”

Most of the people I knew would’ve sounded impressed by that rather than patronizing. Still, I didn’t take the bait. “No. I’ve just had a crazy day working, that’s all.”

“Working.” Edward stroked a hand down my back. “Did you pick up another client?”

“Short term gig.” The lie came too easily and I realized I hated myself in that moment. I used to pride myself on doing the right thing, not the easy thing. Some days recently, I didn’t even recognize myself. I couldn’t even bear to consider what my parents would have thought.

“But it will look good to future employers,” Edward said, catching my hand and squeezing it. “Any experience is good. Come, sit down. A congratulatory drink is in order.”

As Edward led me around to the couch, Stacia pinned me with a look. “What sort of work did you say you did again?”

“Freelance writing.”

“Reporting?” Her brow arched in an elegant tilt.

“No. Ghostwriting here and there, copywriting. That sort of thing. It just depends. I’m writing under an NDA right now so I can’t discuss it in any detail.”

Confusion crossed her face and I could tell that she didn’t like it. “An NDA?”

“Non-disclosure agreement,” Edward clarified. “Common enough in the business world.” He gave me a glass of wine and bent down to kiss me.

I teased the seam of his mouth with the tip of my tongue and caught the surprised glint in his eyes as he straightened.

“I’m proud of you.”

I smiled at him and, as he walked back to his place by the mantle, I told myself to relax. Everything was fine.

***

It wasn’t fine.

It really, really wasn’t.

After subtly letting it be known how famished she was, Stacia ended up getting herself invited to dinner, which ended up being served in the small dining room because it was so informal, so much easier to talk. With her to Edward’s left and me on his right, she managed to commandeer the conversation and I found myself smoldering as she tugged out details about our trip to Tennessee and made one cutting remark after another, all of them disguised as witty little quips.

“Farmers…imagine.” She laid her fork on the table and leaned back. She lifted her wineglass in hand and looked at me. “I’ve never known a farmer, Gabriella. What was it like, growing up like that?”

Edward opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off, tired of it. Tired of all of it.

“I had two parents who loved me. I have three sisters and two brothers, so I was never lonely. I know exactly what it’s like to have strawberry shortcake when the strawberries were just harvested and what it’s like to have a salad right after my mom and I picked everything out of the garden. What’s it like?” I shrugged and looked down at my plate that had most of the potatoes and the steak I hadn’t been able to finish. My family hadn’t been the only farmers in our area, but we also hadn’t been the majority either. But even with all of the richer kids, and the normal teenage bullying that went on, no one had ever tried to make me feel ashamed of what my family did. “I have to admit. It’s pretty amazing.”

Her gaze held mine and then fell away when I refused to back down. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t done yet.

I leaned forward and smiled at her. “You know that Kors purse you’re carrying? It’s leather. Leather doesn’t exist without farmers. They raise the cows it comes from.” I nodded at her plate. “That steak? From a farm. The potatoes and asparagus? From a farm. Your pretty leather shoes? From a farm. Cotton? Silk? All of those fruits and vegetables you eat. Farms. You’re surrounded by the things a farmer provides for you. So if you want to look down your nose at people like my family. Go ahead. See how long you’d survive without them.”

The silence that stretched out for the next ten seconds seemed so much longer.

Blood rushed to her face, turning it splotchy.

I could count off the very beats of my heart.

Then she laughed. It was harsh and false and the sound was so sharp, I almost flinched. “Really, Gabriella. What makes you think I’m looking down my nose? You’re so sensitive.” She reached over and touched Edward’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Sure
you
know I didn’t mean any offense, Edward.”

“Of course.” He patted her hand before looking at me. “Darling—”

“Don’t.” I pushed back from the table, feeling my cheeks heat up with anger. How
dare
he try to defend her? “I’m not a child, Edward. I know when someone intends to be offensive. You always want to believe the best of people, Edward, and I love that about you, but please don’t tell me that I’m not hearing what I know I heard.”

He lapsed into silence, looked at the table instead of at me while Stacia gave me a cool, glittering stare. At least he’d tugged his hand from hers.

Looking down at Stacia, I spoke softly, “You’ve mocked my accent, and I barely have one. You’ve asked if my family walked around barefoot or if they wore overalls for formal events. But you meant no offense. Then you claim you asked simply because you know so little about my kind of people. Maybe that’s true. Maybe you aren’t cruel, just ignorant. And if that’s the case…well…” I smiled and then unleashed one of the southern woman’s most cutting insults. “Bless your heart.”