Perfectly Shattered (2 page)

“Who is he?” Brittany cocked her head, waiting for details.

“Bradan Reid. I guess he must work for this company. I didn’t ask. I was too overawed to think of anything to ask.” Cami stood, getting back to work. “But he’s with some other girl out there, anyway.”

The rest of the evening was torture. Cami tried to stay in the kitchen, actually
hide
in the kitchen. But it didn’t work. Most of the prep had been done earlier, and the demand for refills was high. There was no way to avoid going back to the dining room.

If Bradan had been drinking before the mishap, he was really drinking after it. He danced with a blonde that had enough thick, shiny hair for three women, and pouty lips that were straight out of a fashion magazine. She looked long and leggy in her tiny silver dress. And she had to be at least five ten, a couple of inches taller than Bradan.

But he didn’t seem to mind. The more he drank the more brazen their dancing became, and the blond beauty swayed against him, attracting more male eyes than just her date’s. Cami was disgusted. They made quite a spectacle.

True, she wished that she was the one going home with Bradan later. But she wasn’t, and the thought of blondie snuggling up to Bradan made her green with envy. And mad. The mad part she couldn’t figure out. The envy, well, that was obvious. When the party started to thin out, and Cami saw the blonde stagger out in her silver heels with Bradan’s arm around her waist, she breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been a rough evening. Meeting him had been amazing, and Cami knew she’d be dreaming of him long into the night. There was no avoiding that. Bradan was impossible to forget. But at least she wouldn’t be seeing him again. She’d get over it.

Chapter 2

Dressing for the wet, chilly weather required layers, and Cami had plenty of those. It wasn’t as rainy in the wine country where she’d grown up, but it was cold. Her wardrobe was adequate, plus she’d scoured Urban Outfitters with Brittany and added some additional pieces. For that February day, the prediction was breezes with spotty drizzle.

Starting with her cotton underwear, Cami layered up: yoga tights with a tank top, under a long shirt with a bulky cream-colored sweater over it. She’d splurged on some waterproof boots, a necessity in getting around in the wet climate. Leaving her long, pale brown hair loose, she fluffed on more blush for color.

Her studio apartment in the Belltown neighborhood was small, but it had a kitchen. And that was what mattered. If she couldn’t cook, Cami would really be depressed. It wasn’t a gourmet kitchen, not like she’d had at home, but it would do. And she could see Elliott Bay if she went up to the common-area rooftop patio.

It would have been nice if Brittany was going on the food tour with her, but she’d begged off the night before, hoping to connect up with Tyler. And if Cami were to guess, she’d bet that was what had happened. After the dinner party had cleared out, Brittany had looked pretty chummy with her new rock-star heartthrob.

Cami needed more friends. She’d only been in Seattle for a little over a month, and that had been consumed with working her catering gig, getting her apartment set up, and acclimating to the city. Maybe she’d get to know some people on the tour—possibly even someone with passion for gourmet cuisine.

The other good thing about her location was its connection with downtown, so transportation was not an issue. There were free buses, street cars, and even a light rail to some places. Plus, there was always walking. It was a bit hilly, but Cami didn’t mind. Since no heavy rain was predicted, she could walk to the tour start location.

The tour would cover five restaurants, and a small café for dessert. Since Cami planned to conquer the trendy array of cuisines available in the city, she needed to become more familiar with them. And it would be fun. Tasting from a selection of popular chefs’ fare was something to look forward to. Maybe she’d learn a few tips, or try to make some of the items on her own.

The tour was pre-booked for twelve people, but only nine showed up. One of the cancellations was Brittany, but there was nothing Cami could do about that. Less would be better anyway; easier to get to know people. The others in the group were couples, and though they were friendly, her idea of making friends didn’t look promising.

First stop was Pike Place Market, a port market teeming with every variety of goods imaginable. There were vendors with handmade cheeses, fresh produce, hot chowder, and flowers. Right across the street, the guide pointed out the first-ever Starbucks. They didn’t have time to stop, so Cami made a note to go back later and see what it was like inside.

Allen, the tour guide, was in his thirties, a Seattle native who clearly loved the city. He did a good job of narrating as they went along, offering snippets of information that were interesting. He posed a question to them. “Why do they call Seattle ‘the Emerald City’?”

A man in the group, late twenties, with longish, wavy black hair and glasses, answered, “Because it’s so green with all the forests in the area. It’s a result of the extensive rainfall.”

That made sense to Cami, even though Emerald City reminded her of
The Wizard of Oz
. From the market they climbed into the small tour bus and went for appetizers at a gastro pub in Belltown. Allen described the chef’s offerings as small plates with avant-garde touches. Cami took that to mean the menu items would be ingenious and inventive.

Inside, the high-ceilinged establishment had clear glass lights hanging from wires. It was noisy and the crowd looked young. The beige plastered walls contrasted with wood furniture that looked carved right out of a tree, with the thick-grain design polished. Windows set high in the walls let in ample light.

Cami took her seat near the end next to the man with glasses and his wife. The tour guide took the seat at the head of the table, and after everyone got settled, there were still two empty places across from her. Allen raised his hand for attention just as small plates of food were delivered. “I think you are all in for a surprise.”

Not even seeing the food, Cami stared, disbelieving what she saw. Walking confidently across the room was Bradan, looking as god-like as before. He wore a beige sweater that hugged his chest and tight jeans with leather shoes. The worst thing was that he had a woman in tow. And not the blonde.

This one was of equal beauty, but not as tall. The woman had jet-black hair, olive skin, and huge, dark eyes. The sweater she wore hugged her ample breasts. Cami felt the flush that heated her body, and suddenly the dining area seemed stifling. It couldn’t be possible that they were joining the tour.

Allen looked over at Bradan, who held hands with his lady. “Ah, you made it.” He turned to the group. “Two more to join our party.”

“Sorry we were late,” the woman said in a lilting voice.

They sat across from her, and Cami cringed. Bradan’s eyes met hers and recognition dawned. He nodded, and she managed a stiff smile. The next couple of hours were going to be torture. It was bad enough that he’d rattled her so much the night before that Cami had needed to fantasize about his naked body while pleasuring herself before sleep would come.

Having done that, sitting across from him now was unendurable. Cami was unable to delude herself; he was the hottest guy she’d ever seen. He was that and more. But he wasn’t hers. It seemed she would have to watch him cuddle up to an endless parade of women. It was to be her fate.

Fortunately, there was a lot of chatter at the table and the restaurant was loud, which provided some distraction. Cami made an effort to talk to the man next to her, and alternately with Allen about the different taste experiences. The roasted beets with goat cheese had a pistachio dressing, quite unique and flavorful.

But most of Cami’s attention was on the spectacle across from her. It seemed Bradan made a habit of drinking, as he ordered a whiskey not long after arriving. From his loud behavior, she guessed it wasn’t the first one of the day. At one point when she looked over, he said hello and introduced his date. “Tanya,” he said, the word rolling off his tongue. And all Cami could think about was touching her lips to his.

Her annoyance with him put a damper on her feelings. Though she had no right to be annoyed. Cami had only met him once and not under the best of circumstances. How much whiskey he drank was his business, not hers. If only life wouldn’t keep throwing them together, she could come to her senses.

When the chef arrived at the table to chat, Cami slipped off to the restroom. She couldn’t stand it. Tanya was thoroughly taken with Bradan and kept batting her thick, dark lashes at him while laughing at everything he said. It was enough to make a person sick. At the mirror, Cami played with her hair, wondering how the dark-haired beauty got hers to glow like it did.

The soft sweater she wore fairly well hid her small breasts, and she arched her back to poke them out, imaging how it would feel to have nice, round ones that guys ogled over. It was hopeless. She’d always been small. Nothing was going to change that. And there was no way to compete with Bradan’s taste in women.

Clearly, he liked them well endowed, leggy, and gorgeous. Cami wished she’d worn something sexier than her bulky sweater. But to be fair, there was no way she could have known she’d run into him. Again.

Slipping out of the ladies’ room to the hall, Cami walked smack into Bradan. His muscled body was so solid that it didn’t move. He smelled of men’s cologne and whiskey, which, despite her critical thoughts about his excessive drinking, turned her on.

“Cami,” he said, and her heart stopped.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded before she could help it, but failed to step back from him.

“On my way to the bathroom.” Bradan stood close, partially touching her, showing no inclination to move away.

“No. I mean, why are you on this food tour?” She looked directly at his buff chest and felt heat pulse between her legs.

“Tanya wanted to come.” His voice was throaty but his words weren’t slurred. He seemed to hold his liquor well.

All Cami could think of was the double meaning for the word
come
, and her cheeks heated. She was forever blushing around this man.

“I didn’t think you were the gourmet food type.” She barked it out, surprised at the sharpness of her own words.

“I like food as well as the next guy.” Still he didn’t move, and Cami swore she could feel his heart beating.

“I don’t mean that.” Their eyes locked, and her heart skipped a beat.

Without another word, Bradan put his hand in her hair and lowered his mouth over hers. His taste was of pistachio and whiskey. And was all male. In the deep recesses of her mind, Cami wanted to say no. She knew she should push him away.

But he was everything she wanted. Bradan was all she wanted right then. He was all there was. She parted her lips and he took the offering, dipping his hot tongue next to hers. A whimper escaped from her throat and she pressed against him. He deepened the kiss.

When Bradan pulled back to look at her, his blue eyes burned with lust he didn’t attempt to hide. “Want to get out of here?” The deep tone of his voice soaked her panties, and she knew she wanted to do more than that.

There was no way to explain her reaction, even to herself. With all her will, Cami shook her head. Bradan looked puzzled.

“Just because every woman who comes within ten feet of you jumps into your bed, doesn’t mean I will.” Her tone was sharp and the look in Bradan’s eyes cooled.

“Why do you say that?” He didn’t try to grab her again.

“Why? How can you ask that?” Cami was indignant. “What happened to blondie?”

Bradan looked puzzled.

“Last night…” Cami put one hand on her hip.

“Oh, Melanie.” A tiny smile crossed Bradan’s lips.

“Glad to know she has a name,” Cami huffed.

“Well, she was…I told you.” Bradan was very matter-of-fact.

Cami smirked. “Boring?”

Bradan shrugged. “I guess.”

“So, now it’s Tanya. Is that it?”

“We’re just friends.” The look in his eyes made her want to believe him.

“Right. Friends.” Cami let out a sigh of exasperation. “Until later tonight, after the tour?”

“Not if I leave with you.” Bradan’s blue eyes pierced into her, and for a second Cami nearly flew into his arms, caring nothing for the consequences.

“No. Definitely not. I am not leaving with you.” But she didn’t slip away. That was her mistake.

Bradan leaned toward Cami, her back against the wall. He put one hand on either side of her shoulders and lowered his mouth so close to hers, she could feel his breath. “I want to leave
with you
.”

He didn’t kiss her, just looked into her eyes, and Cami was sure her knees would buckle if she didn’t get out of there soon. She closed her eyes. Another mistake.

Bradan’s soft lips touched hers and delivered heaven right to her doorstep. She’d never met a man who could kiss like he did. No wonder every woman he knew dropped her panties for him. Cami was just about ready to. Maybe she wouldn’t see him again, and for sure she wasn’t leaving with him right then. But she intended to enjoy his kiss to the fullest.

The kiss started as a soft touch of lips, and she breathed in his male scent, inhaling it like a drug. His tongue raked against hers, and it was like fucking with mouths only. She’d never felt so intimate with any man and she had yet to touch anything but his hot mouth. God help her if this went further.

It seemed like an hour, but it must have been only minutes when Bradan leaned back. His heart-shattering smile warmed her to the depths of her soul. Cami might never have this man. God knows he’d be bad for her. But she’d never get him out of her mind either. Emotion radiated between them, pulling her to him, weakening her resistance.

“Okay…Cami.” He leaned away. “They must be just about ready to go. Since you won’t leave with me…” He shrugged casually, like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Cami wasn’t strong, not really. She’d faked him out pretty well. But there were some things she couldn’t do. And one of them was to watch Bradan, the man that had just touched her soul, with another woman. Not happening.