Logan leaps to his feet. “How does Sebastian get to be the lion and I the puppy? Why can’t I be a tiger, or at least some scary dog breed?”
Ah, a good old Bennett brawl.
Pippa puts a hand on her hip, squinting at Logan as if she’s considering something. “Yeah, you’re right. Not a puppy. I’ll look up the appropriate breed later. Must be one that barks a lot but doesn’t bite.”
“Don’t forget it must have an oversized ego,” I supply.
Pippa nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m very glad the two of you are having fun at my expense.” Logan’s tone clearly indicates he’s not glad at all. Pippa and I grin. “But we were talking about Sebastian, and how the family lion will be stupid enough to let the woman he loves walk away.”
My smile drops.
“Sebastian, don’t be an idiot,” Pippa begins, now turning to me, placing both hands on her hips. “If you love her—”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to,” she insists, tilting her head.
“Oh, you can just see it?” I ask sarcastically.
“I can,” Pippa says triumphantly. She glances at Logan, who backs her up with a strong nod. Oh, here they go again.
“Yes, yes, Pippa, we all know you’ve been blessed with Mom’s exceptional people-reading skills.” I give them a dismissive hand gesture, but they won’t let me off so easily today.
“Except when it comes to the people I date or marry, apparently,” she adds. I pull a face, fully aware of what she’s doing, bringing up her broken marriage so I don’t brush her off. I’d get mad at her for being so manipulative if I didn’t love her so much. Which she knows very well.
“How is it that every time we do something together out of the office, you two corner me about my personal life?” I inquire, tapping my fingers on the glass.
“You want us to do it at the office too?” Pippa asks with mock surprise. “Why didn’t you say so? Logan, are you up for it? Hey, we could even call in Alice for a Bennett sibling meeting now and again in the CEO’s office. Or in the meeting room.”
Groaning, I drag my palm down my face. “Please don’t.”
“Let’s get through this step by step,” Pippa says. She sits down on the floor, crossing her legs as if she’s about to do some yoga or shit. Damn it. I know that expression on her face. Lifted eyebrows, lips curled into a half smile. It reminds me of our days as kids, planning our way into or out of a mess. “The point is you can’t let her go.”
“You jumped a few steps in the process,” Logan tells her.
“What will you do after she leaves?” Pippa continues, and now a shred of seriousness tinges her playful tone. “Get back to your old life? Find a Terence, like I did? You’ve had enough sharks have a go at you over the years, wearing silicone and Botox to mask their teeth. You’re the billionaire CEO of one of the biggest companies in San Francisco, and we’re in a sexy industry. Everyone knows you, and you’re one of the most eligible bachelors around.”
Logan and I groan in unison. He gets up. “Okay, it’s time for some adult drinks. Whiskey for everyone?”
I nod. After a few seconds, so does Pippa.
“Make mine a double,” I instruct.
“Go, tiger,” Pippa tells him. We all laugh, but without much humor. The discussion has taken a turn for the serious. Logan shoves the drinks in our hands, and we spend a few minutes in silence, nursing the whiskey.
“I don’t want to talk about Ava right now,” I say eventually. Logan leans back in his seat, averting his gaze, but Pippa persists.
“I don’t care. You found a great woman, and as far as I can see, you really let her in.”
“Yeah, but when I did that, I knew it was only for a while.”
There’s a loaded pause—a
very
loaded pause in which I gulp down the entire contents of the glass.
“Sebastian Bennett,” Pippa says through gritted teeth. “Are you telling me that you only went all in because you thought it was a temporary thing?”
“What? Yea—No. Maybe? I don’t know. Fuck no. I can’t think straight.”
“You can’t blame it on the double whiskey,” Logan warns. “You’ve just had it. No one gets drunk so fast.”
“Burning sun and alcohol isn’t a good combo,” Pippa says. “Recap time. Yes or no, Sebastian?”
“No, it wasn’t because it’s temporary. It was because. . . I couldn’t help it. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I was in it up to my head. Over my head, actually.”
“Good boy.” Pippa pats my arm. “If you’d told me you’re one of those assholes that get the urge to run at the thought of forever, I would’ve beaten the crap out of you.”
“I’m not like that, you know it. I want to carry on the Bennett name and have my own soccer team of kids; but with only siliconed and botoxed sharks in sight, I gave up on that dream years ago.”
When I saw her at the soccer game holding baby Adrian, I could practically see our future together. In fact, I see no future without her. This woman has wedged her way into my heart. She’s glorious. And mine.
Only when Logan sputters his drink and Pippa hugs me, telling me I’m an adorable lion do I realize I’ve actually said at least part of all that out loud. Logan goes to pour himself a fresh glass of whiskey, shaking his head.
Well, it’s all out there already. She might’ve called me a pink panther for all the manliness
adorable lion
has to it, but I’ll find a way to pay her back. Not now though. Now I need her help. “What do I do, Pippa? I feel like I’m drowning and she’s not even gone yet.”
“Fight for your HEA, brother.”
“I thought you no longer believed in those.”
She puts her hands in mine, leaning closer. “It didn’t turn out well for me, though God knows I tried. He wasn’t worth it. But Ava is, you know that.”
“I do. Damn right, I do. I. . . I know it won’t work. She won’t stay.”
Pippa juts her chin forward, speaking slowly, as if I’m a child. “Then convince her.”
Logan returns empty-handed. “I changed my mind. No more alcohol. Let’s swim to clear our heads.”
“You two go,” I say. “I want some time to think.”
“See,” Pippa tells Logan. “Lion behavior, like I said.” She whisks Logan away before he even opens his mouth, throwing me an encouraging look over her shoulder.
***
Pippa was right. Alcohol and sun is a bad combo. When I stand up, I wobble on my feet, which hasn’t happened in years, so I slump back in my chair. Sometime later, Ava appears on the deck, carrying a heap of
something
in her arms.
“There you are,” she says. “Logan told me you’re drunk, but I thought he was messing with me.”
She walks to me with the shy smile I’ve come to love. Hell, I’ve come to love everything about her, and that’s the problem. How can I let her go now?
“I like your bikini.” I slur the words so badly, it’s a miracle she understands any of them. She straddles my lap, facing me. Her tits are in my face and her crotch right over mine. I’ll take that any time.
“I brought shells.”
“What?”
She holds up a white shell, looking at it with a bright smile and squinted eyes. “This is so pretty. I swear it changes its color every time I look at it.”
“Looks white to me.”
“It is white, but it has these colorful hues. They’re different colors, depending where you’re looking from.” She holds it in the sunlight, tilting her head from one side to the other. Ah, yes, one other thing I can add to the list of things I love about her: the way she can find beauty in the simplest things, and shows me how to do that too. If I weren’t drunk off my ass, maybe I’d see what she means.
“Where did you find it?”
“I went snorkeling with Daniel and Blake. We went into a cave and I found this there.”
“Did they take good care of you?”
She nods, dropping the shell between us and resting her palms on my chest. “They’re great. And
so
much fun.”
“Watch it, I might get jealous.” I run my hands up her thighs to her hips.
She laughs, tilting her head back, exposing her throat to me. “Of your brothers?”
“Of any man.” I cup her left breast with one hand. “This is mine.” I slide the other hand into her bathing suit, finding her wet pussy. “This is mine too.”
She huffs out a breath, her chest heaving up and down.
“You are mine, Ava, and I won’t let you go.”
Her eyes widen, and she murmurs, “You really are drunk.”
“Yeah, but you’re still mine.”
I kiss her hard, possessing her mouth, my hand cupping her wetness. Entangled with her like this, I make myself a drunken promise: I will not let her go.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ava
Two weeks to D-day, and everyone’s running around crazily already. I’m definitely leading the crazy pack.
“Okay, everyone. Let’s start this,” I instruct.
This is the first rehearsal for the show, and I’m impressed that all the models showed up. The prep team did a wonderful job, and now the girls are ready to hit the runway. They’re wearing mock jewelry, of course. The real items will only be here on the day of the show.
I sit next to the runway, but don’t look much at the models; Pippa’s in charge of that. I inspect the rest of the decor and the way the technical equipment blends in. I’ve had nightmare issues with shows before, with designers deciding the day before that they want to change the entire color scheme. Luckily, Pippa looks very pleased.
Finally, content with the decor, I turn my attention to the models. I’m impressed with the high-caliber models they hired for this. The star of the show is Simone Candella, an Italian beauty who took up residence in the United States six years ago. Watching her stroll on the runway, I understand the world’s fascination with her. She’s the personification of beauty. Her waist-long black hair and tan skin give her an exotic air, making her striking blue eyes nothing short of mesmerizing. A visible dash of arrogance accompanies her every move, but that’s to be expected.
Midway through the rehearsal, I notice a shift in the models’ behavior. They smile more, occasionally winking at something behind me. Baffled, I turn around and find Sebastian there. I let out an audible groan. Both Pippa and Sebastian laugh.
“What are you doing here, brother?” Pippa whispers over her shoulder. “You haven’t been at a rehearsal in years.”
“Thought I’d take a break, delight my eyes with some beauty.” He looks at me pointedly, and heat rushes to my cheeks. I know he’s teasing me, but I feel a tiny pang of jealousy.
As the rehearsal progresses, the models become bolder, giving him hot looks. Out of the corner of my eye, I peer at Sebastian, who wanders around the room. To my astonishment, he’s not looking at the runway, instead inspecting the lighting equipment.
Finally, he sits next to me and says, “This is going to be our most expensive show.”
“The buzz around it got you enough partners to offset the cost.”
“I know. You’re a genius.”
Pride swells inside me at his words. Shortly afterward, we take a break. The models wear robes, milling around, drinking nothing but water, even though the catering company also brought model-approved food like salads and low-calorie everything.
Sebastian speaks in a hushed voice to Pippa, still ignoring all the hot looks he gets. He speaks to the technician who’s behind all the magic that will happen during the show, especially the opening stunt. Since Sebastian and I aren’t displaying our relationship (very) publicly, we try to keep our distance to what would pass as professional interest.
Pippa walks to me and says in a low voice, “Looking at these girls makes me feel bad about all those cupcakes I eat.”
“You look great,” I reassure her.
“I like my body, though I have my unfavorable spots, but it’s hard to look at them and not get self-conscious.”
Silently, I agree.
“I mean, look at Simone. She’s practically perfect,” Pippa says. “Well, she’s a total bitch, but other than that. . . Anyway, I wanted to ask you something else. I need to change something.”
Oh, crap. I knew it. Here it comes.
“The dress Lily wears the second time she comes out isn’t right.”
I wait for the blow—something like—oh, and I want the entire color scheme changed, but Pippa seems to be done with the requests.
“I know a designer put the models’ looks together,” she continues, “but I trust you. You have excellent taste in clothing. Would you mind looking backstage? Maybe you’ll find something more suitable?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring you a few other choices you can look at and decide.”
“Perfect.” With a chuckle, she adds, “Look at my brother. He came just to see you. He hates coming to these things. Models are drawn to him like moths to a flame.”
“They are, aren’t they?” I ask with a dry mouth.
“I give him five minutes before he bolts, or goes to another room,” she adds in a low, conspiratorial tone.
***
The prep room smells like overheated hair spray. It’s empty right now, since all the stylists are at the buffet. The clothes are stuffed in an adjacent room, which also houses a couch. There are hangers upon hangers with clothes, and I head to the back of the room, where I spot two hangers chock-full of cocktail dresses. Browsing through them, I find four that’d be appropriate.
Suddenly, I hear voices from the front of the room. I hadn’t even realized someone was there. I don’t know what makes me do it, but I instinctively bend my knees and duck, hiding behind the hanger.
“Sebastian Bennett, what a surprise to see the CEO himself here. You’ve never joined the rehearsals before,” a woman says. Her voice is throaty and low. Simone. A sinking feeling forms in my stomach, my heart suddenly weighing a hundred pounds. I saw the way she ogled Sebastian; and she’s so beautiful.
“It was about time I paid a visit,” he says.
I look around for a way to escape. Damn it, there is no way out except through the door I came through, and they’d see me immediately. With trembling hands, I part two dresses, looking between them. I have a direct view of the back of Sebastian’s head. He sits on the couch while Simone stands in front of him. She’s wearing nothing but a robe, and her stance is provocative, revealing too much of her generous cleavage and perfectly toned legs.