3 Seconds (Time for Love Book 6) (12 page)

Brady shot me a
look, which really made me want to punch him in the stomach, then
continued imparting his wisdom.

“Maybe it’s
time for you to re-evaluate what you want. Look at it this way …
You raise kids for eighteen years, then they go their separate
ways, and if you’re lucky, they let you in their lives on the
holidays. But your partner will be with you for the rest of your
life. Who you choose will be with you longer than your children, or
your parents, and will be your companion for the rest of your days
on this earth … If there’s even a chance that Brendan is that
person, should you really be so quick to throw it all away?”

I let his words
filter through my brain, even though I was quickly finding him to
be the most annoying person I’ve ever met.

“Tell me this,
Obi Wan
, how many successful relationships have you
had?”

Brady’s pursed
his lips and rubbed his temples, as if
I
were the one
frustrating
him
, and replied, “I don’t know how much Bren
told you about our parents, but they had the kind of relationship
that others dream of … Plus, I’ve been around Brock and Victoria,
and anyone who’s seen them, knows that they are in it for the long
haul.” He pushed back from the bar and looked ready to leave, but
gave me one last nugget to mull over. “Plus, I’ve seen how
miserable Brendan is, and I saw the look on your face when you
realized that it was me here to see you, and not Bren. Just think
about it.”

I watched him
weave through the tables and exit the pub before I allowed the
tears that were welling to spill over, then took refuge in the
bathroom.

Was he right?
Had I been looking for an excuse to end things with Brendan?

I
had
been finding faults with our coupling since the night we met, the
age difference, the fact that he was a student, but I hated to
think that I’d intentionally been looking for a way out.

I sat on the
small sofa that rested against the wall in our ladies room, looking
at the landscape of Ireland, without really seeing the beautiful
portrait.

Maybe I needed
to take more time to evaluate what I’d done, and what I wanted. I
should probably talk to Brendan, instead of avoid him, and see how
being around him made me feel.

Was I
heartbroken? Was he?

I guessed that
I needed more time to figure everything out. I just hoped I had the
time to do it.

Chapter
Twenty-One ~ Brendan

I just had to
make it through the day and it was finally the weekend. I had a gig
with my brothers Saturday night, but that was the only thing I had
to do, other than get ready for my finals next week.

The finals
didn’t worry me. I knew I was well prepared, and God knew, I was
ready to be done with this class.

My eyes moved
from the clock to the front of the room, as the object of my
despair went over the details of what we could expect to happen
next week. It hurt to look at her, her red hair vibrant against the
white of her chef coat, as she moved elegantly around the room.

I wanted her so
badly I ached with it. Night after night, day after day, she was
all I could think about.

I was
consumed.

Obsessed.

At least I’d
gotten some good material out of it
, I thought bitterly.

Hell, who was I
kidding, I couldn’t care less about my music, my food, or anything
else for that matter … All I wanted, was her.

“Did you hear
that Chef Agard himself is flying in this weekend to be here when
the announcement goes out about who got the job?”

I turned my
head, annoyance apparent on my face to see Calla looking at me with
a strangely smug expression on her face.

I don’t know
what she had to be smug about, I was kicking her ass and was a shoe
in for the job in France.

So I shrugged
and turned my attention back to the clock, hoping she’d get the
hint and go away.

“They were
married, you know…” she continued, not taking the hint.

“Who?” I asked,
my voice full of boredom.

“Callaghan and
Agard.”

When I whipped
my head and locked eyes on Bronagh, Calla let out a wicked
chuckle.

“Guess you
didn’t know…” was all she said, before the chair scrapped against
the floor, indicating her departure.

Bronagh and
Chef Agard?

Yeah, she’d
said she was married, but I realized she’d never said to who, and
I’d never asked. I guess I’d never imagined it was anyone I
knew…

It finally
registered that class was dismissed when everyone started gathering
their things, and I looked over in time to see Bronagh’s retreating
back. I jumped to my feet, ignoring the calls of my friends, and
took off after her.

I‘d almost
caught up to her when she turned the corner. Not caring who was
around, I opened the first door we came to, at the same time
grabbing her by the arm and shoving her inside, then closed the
door behind us.

“What…?”
Bronagh exclaimed, her eyes wide when she saw that it was me.

“Chef Agard is
your ex?” I whispered tightly, getting right to the point.

Bronagh lowered
her eyes to my mouth, and I became conscious of the fact that I was
still holding her arm in my grasp. I loosened my hold, but didn’t
let go.

“Yes,” she
admitted, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, distracting
me.

“Why didn’t you
tell me? We talked about your ex, and we talked about my time
working under Agard, but you never said we were talking about the
same person.”

Bronagh closed
her eyes and sighed.

“I know … You
just … looked up to him so much, and I didn’t want to ruin that for
you. He
is
an amazing chef, and I didn’t want to taint that
experience for you somehow.”

“I can
understand that, but imagine what it felt like hearing that you
were married to someone I considered a
mentor
by
Calla
, rather than you.”

Bronagh sucked
her lower lip between her teeth, then blew out a deep breath.

“You’re right,
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you get blindsided like that, I
guess a part of me
liked
that you looked up to him … Like
maybe I wasn’t as blind and stupid as I felt whenever I thought of
my marriage to him.”

“Bronagh,” I
sighed, unable to stop myself from running my hand over her hair.
“You weren’t stupid; he’s not only a talented chef, but a charming
man … Plus, he was
your husband,
you had every reason to
expect him to be faithful. I just wish you would have trusted me
enough to tell me.”

“I did,” she
began, then amended, “No, I
do
, trust you. But I wanted not
only to preserve the memory you had of him, but to not have it look
like I was trying to force you
not
to take that job…”

I nodded as her
words penetrated the green haze of jealousy I’d been feeling.

“You were
trying to protect me,” I said as more of a statement than a
question.

We were close
enough that I felt her nod, her hair brushing against my skin with
the movement, and I heard her sharp intake of breath as I moved my
face closer. I nuzzled her with my cheek, then the side of my nose,
rubbing against the side of her face like a cat staking its
claim.

She swayed a
little, and I knew her body was reacting to my nearness, just like
I was quickly being lit like a live wire, from the inside out. I
wouldn’t have been surprised if you could physically see the
electricity between us, shooting off like tiny bolts of lightening.
My body was tight with need, and I could no longer keep my hands
off of her luscious body.

No longer
conscious of our surroundings, or where we were, I slid my hands up
her arms, over her shoulders, and to her neck, grasping her smooth
skin and maneuvering her head to give myself full access to the
creamy expanse of flesh. I ran my nose up her throat, nuzzling,
then letting my lips lightly graze her skin with whisper-soft
kisses. When she moaned low in her throat, I parted my lips and
licked her lightly, with quick flicks of my tongue.

“Touch me,” she
whispered throatily, and I was helpless to her demand.

I unbuttoned
her chef coat slowly, then slid my hands inside, under her tank
top, until I found the soft skin I was looking for. Moving upward,
I softly caressed the underside of her breasts with my thumbs,
causing her head to fall back and sweet little noises to emit from
her.

Spurred on by
the fact that she’d obviously been missing me as much as I’d been
missing her, I moved one hand lower, delving into the waistband of
her pants and teasing her through the delicate lace of her
panties.

“
God
,
Brendan,” she moaned, causing my cock to harden painfully.

Bronagh
unbuttoned her pants and lowered the zipper, giving me easier
access to body, but still I toyed with her. Each whimper and
frustrated sigh just fueled my desire to make her come harder than
ever before, so I ran my knuckles against her throbbing wet flesh,
resisting the urge to buck against her.

“Bren,
please
,” she begged, causing a fever to overtake me. I
pushed the material to the side and entered her slowly with my
fingers, my vision blurring when she sighed audibly and thrust
against my hand.

“So wet,” I
said softly at her ear, flicking my tongue out to caress her
earlobe as I simultaneously added another finger to her core.

“Don’t stop,”
she said, writhing against me, her ardor making my hips thrust of
their own volition, my body taking over as it tried to gain its own
release.

I sucked her
neck as I tried to calm my own libido, my fingers fucking her
swiftly as she rode my hand.

“
More
,”
she pleaded, and something inside of me snapped.

With one swift
movement I had her pants around her ankles and I was kneeling
before her. My tongue lapped her swollen lips before entering her.
Bronagh’s knees began to buckle, so I brought my hands up to cup
her ass, bringing her sweet pussy even closer to my face, as I kept
her upright and steady.

She fisted her
hands in my hair, her hips moving in time with the thrusts of my
tongue, and when I moved my nose up and came in contact with her
clit, she lost all semblance of control and fucked my face until
she came. The sounds, smells, and feel of Bronagh surrounded me,
and, unable to hold back, I came in my pants like a teenaged
boy.

Sanity began to
eek back in to my consciousness. I remembered where we were, and
mentally punched myself for losing control.

I pulled
Bronagh’s pants back up as I stood, then let her take over as I
took a step back.

Her eyes were
still slightly glazed, and her fingers trembled as she buttoned her
jacket.

“
Shit
,”
she muttered, taking a deep breath before finally bringing her eyes
to meet mine.

“Are you okay?”
I asked nervously, hoping that even if she regretted losing our
minds in a closet at school, that she didn’t regret the act
itself.

“Yeah,” she
said shakily, pushing her hair back and attempting to smooth the
red locks down. “I need to go, I have a meeting soon.” She looked
back down, then licked her lips before adding, “We’d better go
separately, just in case there are still people in the halls.”

I nodded that I
understood, then watched silently as she slipped out without
another word.

Leaning back
against the wall, I hung my head, a million emotions warring within
me.

Apparently she
hadn’t missed me as much as I’d hoped, not if she was that quick to
run out on me. She’d just succumbed to the moment, her body wanting
me, even if her mind did not.

Feeling worse
than I had just days before, I gave her a few seconds’ head start,
then stormed out of the building, wishing I never had to darken its
halls again.

Chapter
Twenty-Two ~ Bronagh

My cheeks were
burning as I floated down the hall to my office, barely aware of
where I was and what I was doing.

I couldn’t
believe what had just happened.

I’d been on
autopilot during class. I read the necessary information to the
students, but in my mind I’d been replaying the last time Brendan
and I’d had sex.

It started when
he walked into class looking scruffy and delicious. I’d been doing
my best to ignore him, but Brady’s words had come back to me and
had me watching Brendan more closely. His hair was pulled back and
it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. His mouth was a tight
line, and his eyes
had
looked sad. I didn’t like the fact
that I was the reason he was hurting.

He looked good
though …
really
good.

I’d begun to
imagine how that scruff would feel between my thighs, and was so
immersed in my daydreams that I was shocked to realize the day had
come to a close. I was rushing off to my office when he’d grabbed
me and pulled me into that closet. Already so turned on, I’d hardly
comprehended his words, instead focusing on his lips. On that
mouth, and what I wanted it to do with me.

What happened
after that was one hundred percent my fault, and I’d been right,
his short beard felt
amazing
.

After I came
out of my sexual haze, I’d been mortified that I’d used him that
way. Especially after
I’d
been the one to end things. Talk
about mixed messages!

I was so
consumed with guilt and mentally berating myself that when I walked
into my office, it took a moment for me to recognize the man
standing before my desk.

“
Chéri
,” he said in his familiar
soft accent. He looked very much the same … average height and
build, with a face so striking it often caused women to gasp. There
was a little more gray above his ears, but of course, that only
made him look more distinguished.