The CEO's Seduction (A Hamilton Family Series) Read online

  “Since everyone else went to bed.” He shrugged and reached out to grab Brett’s glass. “I have no idea what time it is right now, so I don’t know how long it’s been.”

  “It’s three in the morning.” Brett eyed Wyatt.

  “Ah. Then it has been quite some time.” Wyatt lifted the glass to his lips again. “Why are you being all pissy?”

  “I’m not being ‘pissy.’”

  Wyatt lifted a brow. “Yeah, you are.”

  “All right. I am.” Brett leaned back in the chair and hooked his ankle over his knee. “I was thinking, is all. I try to avoid doing that late at night, but sometimes my brain gets the best of me.”

  “I get that.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Brett snorted. “After all, you’ve been down here drinking for hours, too.”

  Wyatt shrugged. The motion was supposed to look carefree, but it looked anything but. “I might be pissy, too. You’re not the only one who lets it out sometimes.”

  Brett laughed. “Fair enough.”

  He looked out the window toward the home he had grown up in. He hated that damn house. If it was up to him, he’d burn the whole thing down and put a park up instead, somewhere for kids to play, so someone would always be happy there.

  His aunt would hate that.

  Now he liked the idea even more.

  “You know, you really only laugh with her.”

  Brett cocked a brow into the darkness. “With who?”

  “Don’t be a dumbass. We both know who I’m talking about.”

  “I laugh with other people,” Brett said hesitantly. “All the time.”

  “Not like with her. You act different around her.” Wyatt frowned, watching Brett closely. “Like you’re happier with her, or some shit like that.”

  That’s because he was happier around Anna.

  It was simple science.

  But he wasn’t stupid or drunk enough to admit it.

  “Are you trying to tell me I’m good enough for her now? Because if so, I’ll have to get that in writing,” he said sarcastically.

  “Hell no.” Wyatt leaned forward, his brow wrinkled. “But maybe you could be, someday. Or maybe I’m just drunk. I don’t fucking know.”

  Brett shook his head. “Since when do you get drunk?”

  “Since I had to sit back and watch my sister make a fool of herself over a man who can’t appreciate her, and not tell anyone that they kissed, because my brothers would kill him.” Wyatt shoved the glass at Brett, filled up halfway. “That man would be you, of course. And you told her to never do it again. Are you insane?”

  Brett set the glass down untouched. “I’m aware she has a certain soft spot for me, but I assure you she’ll be fine. We’ve talked about this, and she knows where I stand. And we certainly haven’t—”

  “Haven’t slept together? I know.”

  Brett stared at Wyatt silently.

  The other man sighed. “The question is…why haven’t you?”

  Brett picked an inopportune time to take a sip of his bourbon. He choked on the drink, his lungs wheezing as he tried to pull in some air. Had Wyatt seriously asked him why he hadn’t banged his little sister? What the actual fuck?

  Was there a hidden camera somewhere in this room, waiting for him to admit to wanting Anna? And the second he did, all the Hamilton men would jump out and kick his ass? That seemed more likely than this conversation. “This has got to be a trick question.”

  “Why’s that?” Wyatt asked, his brows up. “It’s a simple question, really.”

  Brett laughed. “No, it’s not.” He held his hand out and counted off on his fingers. “I say it’s because I don’t like her like that? You punch me.” He moved on to another finger. “I say I like her just fine, but don’t love her? You punch me.” Next finger. “I say I want sex and nothing else from her? You kill me.” He dropped his hands between his knees, leaning in toward Wyatt, who looked as though he’d like nothing more than to do all of the above. “No matter what I say, I’m fucked. So I’ll plead the fifth on this one.”

  Wyatt’s fingers tightened on his own glass, his knuckles going white underneath the skin. “The only option I’ll kick your ass for is the one where you use her for sex. The rest is old news to me. I know more about you and her than you do.”

  Obviously not.

  If he did, then he would see that Brett wanted her more than he would have ever thought possible—which was why he wouldn’t touch her. He couldn’t be her person. Not in the way she deserved. She deserved more. “There is no me and her.”

  “Exactly.” Wyatt leaned back and crossed his ankles. The position screamed relaxation, yet it didn’t fool Brett. The feral energy radiating off Wyatt was tangible, and he had a sinking suspicion he knew what the opposing team felt like out on the football field on Sundays. “But you kissed her, and then what? Told her you didn’t like it? Lied?”

  “Honestly?” Brett asked, staring at the other man without flinching. “I don’t see how it’s any of your damn business what I said.”

  Wyatt sat forward, his eyes blazing. “Do you have a death wish, little boy?”

  Brett snorted, since he had a few inches and more muscles on the other man. “I think you need your vision checked. I’m not little anymore.”

  “You’ll always be a small, dorky boy to me.”

  Brett said nothing to that.

  “You need to figure your shit out, or I’ll figure it out for you.”

  He sagged back against the chair. “You clearly don’t want me near her.”

  “You’re right, I don’t,” Wyatt admitted. “Your childhood screwed you up, and I worry your issues might be transferred to my sister.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Are you denying it?”

  He wanted to. He really did. But he wasn’t a liar, and they both knew how dead he was on the inside. It was why they were having this conversation in the first place.

  So he said nothing at all.

  Wyatt snorted. “That’s what I thought. So, bottom line before I go to bed and leave you alone? If you hurt her, you’re a dead man.”

  Brett curled his hands into fists. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “But if you could make her happy…?” Wyatt stood and headed for the door, calling out over his shoulder. “Well, I guess I’d let you be.”

  That was the real kicker, though.

  He didn’t think he could.

  Chapter Seven

  The next evening, Anna sat down in the garden, letting out a sigh of relief. The morning and afternoon had passed remarkably slowly, and thankfully without incident. Wyatt had been by her side every second of the day so far, and Brett stayed as far away from her as physically possible while in the same room, so it was kind of like old times.

  She dodged her shadow when the dancing began by saying she needed to attend to woman problems. That always sent Wyatt running, and this time was no different. In truth, the only woman problem she had was her annoying, overbearing brother following her around, but he didn’t need to know that. He’d practically lit up in excitement at the thought that she was off-limits, so to speak.

  It wasn’t actually her time of the month, but that didn’t matter.

  As long as he thought it, she would have some freedom.

  She swung her legs lightly under the bench, enjoying the solitude while it lasted. Couples laughed and danced in the living room, some of them passing by the French doors to her left. Her parents had cleared out the large room to make way for dancing, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the festivities tonight. A fast-paced song she didn’t recognize played, and it drifted out the open windows into the garden.

  Closing her eyes, she let out a long sigh.

  No matter what was happening in her life, she always managed to grab a hold of at least a thin sliver of happiness in the garden. She always found her equilibrium.

  “I keep running into you out here,” Brett said, making her eyelids shoot up. He stood behind the large r
osebush on the outskirts of the garden, watching her with a serious expression in his eyes. “Do you ever stay inside?”

  Her traitorous heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. “Do you?”

  “Not really. I like being outside better.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step closer. He looked so vulnerable and uncertain. “I feel more at home with the trees and the stars. I hate crowds.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Of course you do.” He gave her a small smile, watching her from under his hooded lids. She wanted to look away because it hurt to look at him and know she could never have him, but she didn’t. She refused to show any weakness. “It’s almost time for the bachelor party. Are you girls going out to be crazy, too?”

  Anna winced. The bridesmaids and the bride had gone drinking last weekend, and she had gotten outrageously drunk. That’s why Nina knew about her feelings for Brett in the first place. Give her a few drinks, and she would confess every little detail of her pathetic love life to anyone listening, and boy, had she done that. “No, we already went out. We’re just going to be drinking some champagne and watching a few chick flicks tonight. Are you going to a strip club?”

  “I’m not sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “But I hope not.”

  She arched a brow. “Why not? Men love those places.”

  “Some men.” He focused on her, his eyes intense and dark. “Not me.”

  She didn’t really know what to say to that. Good for you? Or maybe: Glad to hear it? Or: Thank God? None of them seemed to fit, so she just sat there looking like an idiot…which was quite fitting. “Oh.”

  “Why aren’t you dancing tonight, Twinkletoes?”

  She looked down at her feet. The only person she really wanted to dance with was right here, but she didn’t want to admit that, thank you very much. “I don’t know. Why aren’t you dancing?”

  “I don’t dance.”

  “You did with me,” she said softly. “All those years ago.”

  “That was different.”

  She lifted her head. “Why?”

  “It was with you,” he said, his voice so quiet she had to strain her ears to make out the words. “And I was younger back then.”

  “So was I.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m different now, too, you know.”

  He approached and held out his hand. “Hopefully not so different that you’ll reject a dance with me?”

  God, was he trying to kill her? This was just a show of friendship from him, but to her…it was everything. He was everything to her. And he’d never understand that.

  His jaw flexed at her silence. “Dance with me, Anna.”

  It wasn’t really a question. It was more of a…command. She liked the authoritative tone in his voice more than she cared to admit. She bit her lower lip, her stomach clenching tight at the heated possession in his eyes.

  She should say no.

  But something in his eyes, combined with the terse lines around his mouth, refused to let her push him away this time. He looked…like this meant more to him than a stupid dance. She slid her hand into his and stood. “I guess one dance for old time’s sake wouldn’t hurt.”

  Idiot. You have no one to blame but yourself.

  He closed his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She let her lids drift shut for a second, simply breathing him in, and pretended this meant as much to him as it did to her. He smelled like dreams, love, man, and cigar. She wished there were a candle of his scent. She would burn it every time she thought of him, when the empty, aching hole in her chest throbbed for him…which was way too freaking often to admit.

  He rested his jaw on her temple. “Thank you for dancing with me. I know I haven’t been the best of friends lately, and I’m sorry for that. I keep thinking that one of these days, you’ll realize how much of an asshole I am and send me packing for good.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll always be your friend. I’ll never send you away.”

  “I doubt that.” His voice sounded gruff. “It’s only a matter of time. I’ve accepted it, and so should you. We’re on borrowed time, Twinkletoes. We all are. But until then…remember when we used to do this?” He swung her in a circle, lifting her off her feet. She clung to his shoulders, a surprised laugh escaping her. “And then I’d do this.” He dipped her backward. He leaned down close to her face, his nose practically touching hers. The smile on his face melted away, and his hands tightened on her as his green eyes darkened seductively. “Shit. I forget what comes next.”

  “For starters?” She dug her nails into his jacket, her heart racing faster than ever before and the world spinning around them. “You never looked at me like that.”

  “Sure I did. I just hid it better.” He stared at her lips, his gaze darkening. “Much fucking better.”

  Her breath escaped her, and the world spun around them. “Brett—”

  “What are you two doing out here?” Cole asked from the French doors.

  Brett clenched his jaw and didn’t move. Just kept holding her in his arms. “I’m dancing with your sister, Einstein. Go away.”

  She blinked up at him in surprise. He always backed off when one of her brothers came in between them and let go of her faster than a vampire with a cross.

  “Are you okay, Anna?” Cole asked.

  Brett cursed under his breath and swung her to her feet, but kept an arm wrapped around her waist. “Does she look upset or abused to you, Cole?”

  “She can speak for herself,” Anna said, eyeing Brett out of the corner of her peripheral vision. “And I’m fine. We’re just dancing. We’ll be inside in a second.”

  Cole cocked a brow. “Brett doesn’t dance.”

  “I do with her.”

  Cole shook his head, but a small smile slid into place. “I’ll do my best to keep the others out of the garden—but I’m not making any promises. Come back inside soon.”

  Cole left, and Anna was once again alone with Brett. He dropped his hold on her and rubbed the back of his neck. Offering her a sheepish smile, he said, “Sorry. I’m just done with them ordering me around.”

  She nodded, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t blame you. They’re being ridiculous.”

  He smiled, but it had a sad tone to it, if that was even possible. “I get it. It’s because they love you so much, and you’re so special, they want to take care of you. They want to protect you.”

  “They don’t need to protect me from you,” she said slowly. “You made that quite clear.”

  “Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I did, didn’t I?”

  She nodded, not saying anything.

  There was nothing to say.

  “Are we still friends, Anna?” he finally asked.

  “Of course,” she said immediately. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “I don’t know.” They watched each other silently, neither stepping closer or backing off. After a while, he gestured toward the open doors. “Well, thanks for the dance.”

  She smoothed her dress over her legs. “I’m going inside before Wyatt notices I’m taking too long, so you can have the garden all to yourself if you’d like.”

  His lips twitched. “I was wondering how you managed to escape your bodyguard.”

  “I lied and told him I had my period. That sent him running for the hills.”

  Brett laughed. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and traced his finger down the slightly raised scar on her palm. “Did you ever tell your parents the truth about where you got this scar?”

  She shivered at this soft touch, and her stomach hollowed out.

  The memory never left her.

  Brett stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He had recently switched from glasses to contacts, but she missed seeing him in his goofy little glasses. He had saved up all of his money from the part-time job he worked after school to be able to afford the contacts. God knew his aunt and uncle wouldn’t pay for them.

  Christopher l
eaned back on the couch and rubbed his spiky, gelled hair. “You going home to celebrate, Brett?”

  “Yeah.” Brett gave him a small smile and rubbed the back of his neck. “They said they’re making me a cake and my favorite dinner. I can’t wait.”

  “At least they do that much for you one day a year,” Eric mumbled. “If only they cared the other three hundred and sixty-four days.”

  Anna watched Brett closely. His smile slipped a fraction, then slid back into place. He collected all of his homework and shrugged. “No sense in wishing for something that will never happen. It is what it is. It’s not like I care.”

  She sighed. She knew how wishing for things that would never happen worked all too well. If only he would notice her and maybe love her a little bit. Would that ever happen? Heck, she would even settle for him looking at her the way she looked at him for just one second. Or, you know…

  All. The. Time.

  Brett cleared his throat. “Something wrong, Anna?”

  “Huh?” She mentally shook herself off. “Why would something be wrong?”

  Christopher snorted. “You were staring at him and freaking him out again.”

  Her cheeks caught on fire, and her heart cracked a little bit. Brett complained about her to her brother? How embarrassing. “I wasn’t staring at him.”

  “She didn’t freak me out.” Brett glared at Christopher, then turned back to her. His eyes softened, and he offered her a smile. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just teasing you. You don’t freak me out.”

  Christopher frowned. “No, I’m not. You said—”

  “I’m heading home now. Thanks for the help with my chemistry homework,” Brett interjected.

  “Yep.” Chris’s fingers twitched on the armrests of the chair. “See you in the morning.”

  As Brett passed by, he leaned down and whispered, “Don’t let him get to you. I’ve never complained about you and never will.”

  She curled her hands into fists so tight her nails dug into her soft skin. Did he realize how much those words meant to her? “Okay. Have a happy birthday.”

  His lips twitched, and his eyes met hers. They were empty. Completely empty. “I’ll try.”

  And with that, he left. She stared after him, unable to shake the complete and stark loneliness she had seen in his eyes. Something told her she didn’t have the whole picture. That she was missing something important.