Not Until You Page 5

  I’m starting to wonder if he’s hard of hearing. I am not going to take the damn job, so Monday isn’t happening. And I refuse to let myself have feelings for him, which is why I’m walking away.

  “Mr. Huxley—”

  “Callum. I believe we’ve both earned the right to first names since you’ve had your hand on my cock already, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Sure, but you’re not hearing me,” I explain.

  Without responding, he begins to write something on a piece of paper. What is wrong with men? Do they think this crazy dominant behavior is attractive? I mean . . . it kind of is, but still.

  “I heard every word. I just don’t accept your terms,” he says, and then he hands me the folded piece of paper, touches my cheek, and walks out of the room.

  Because I have no idea what the hell happened, I flop down into the seat and unfold the paper.

  When I see the number written, I almost fall out of my chair. This man is going to get exactly what he wants.

  “Three million dollars!” Kristin screams and then throws a pillow at me. “Are you kidding?”

  I drain another glass of wine and fill that baby right back up. “No, I’m not kidding. What the hell do I do?”

  “You take that money and design him the best apartments that Tampa has ever seen!”

  Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t he go back to London so I could just get on with my life? It’s been a week since I had sex. A week! That doesn’t happen for me. I like sex. No, scratch that, I love it, and since I met Callum, I can’t even bring myself to call one of my hookups.

  He’s broken me.

  The stupid asshole broke my vagina without even touching it.

  “You don’t get it,” I tell Kris.

  “Clearly, I don’t.”

  Might as well tell her everything. “He’s the guy I ran away from.”

  She puts her glass down and stares at me. “You mean the one you Heathergated from?”

  I nod.

  “Well, that explains why you’re not dancing around and you’re acting like three million dollars is a bad thing.” Kristin leans back.

  “Let’s be honest for one second here.” I sigh. “I’m good at my job, but I’m not worth three million dollars. This is some sort of trap.”

  “Maybe the job is worth that,” she suggests.

  “It’s a lot of work. I mean, a lot. He wants fifteen different designs and for me to oversee every detail in each unit while they’re being built. They’re completely customizable, and he wants to make sure that I’m involved at all levels. I’ll basically be designing each loft for each client. I won’t have time for any other jobs, but I don’t make three million dollars! I wonder if this is a sex trap . . .”

  “Yeah, it’s totally a sexy trap,” she says sarcastically.

  “Well, there’s no other explanation!”

  It doesn’t make sense. If I were any other designer, would he pay that?

  No. No, he wouldn’t.

  “Okay, let’s go back because I feel like I’m missing something here.” Kristin scoots forward. “What happened that night that you’re not telling me?”

  The best part about my three best friends is that they each fill a void. I think we do the same across the board for each other. Kristin and I never really were close as kids, it wasn’t until she found me, on the floor, desperate to stop the pain that we started to lean on each other. She came to the house the night I lost the only man I’ve ever loved. It wasn’t pretty but she didn’t judge me or make me feel worse about my life. She held my hand through the aftermath. In all the years before that, she’d never seen me cry.

  I’m pretty sure she was terrified.

  “He reminds me of Andy. He’s sexy, smooth, funny, and the only difference is that he has a British accent that makes me want to do unspeakable things. I craved being near him. It was like my body was being pulled toward his and I couldn’t stop it. He looked at me as though he couldn’t make himself stop either. It was exactly like that for me before, and look how that worked out.”

  Kristin shakes her head. “Andy was a prick. He hurt you because he was a liar.”

  “I trusted myself!”

  “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to be wrong again.” She tries to comfort me. She sucks at comforting people. “You’re working for this guy, not falling in love with him, right?”

  “Yes.”

  At least that’s the plan.

  “But you’re scared?” she asks.

  I don’t get scared of men. I get angry or turned on, but scared isn’t really my thing. I’m confident, and when I set my mind to something, I accomplish it. What scares me is that I was running away at the club when I should have been marching right past him, getting into my car, and driving off. That is what has me shitting myself.

  “I don’t want to get involved,” I tell her.

  “Then don’t.”

  “I didn’t plan to get involved with Andy.”

  Kristin leans back. “I get that, but you had no idea he was married, Nicole. He lied to you, led you on, and made you think you were designing a life together and not just his office. Also, it’s really not fair to use a relationship from fifteen years ago as your benchmark for all men.”

  “Whatever.”

  Kristin huffs. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  “You know, not every guy is the same . . .”

  The thing is, I thought there was something wrong about four months in. He never wanted to meet my friends, family, or even let me tell people about us. I had to keep our relationship a secret, sneak around because he was an important businessman and being single was part of his sales pitch. At the time, I accepted it because it sounded somewhat plausible. The longer the relationship carried on, the less those excuses made sense. I couldn’t explain it, but my intuition was firing off at every turn.

  He was too perfect. Everything always worked out exactly the way it should, and it made me wary of our relationship. I didn’t know he was married and his wife was expecting until the very end. But if I’d trusted my gut, I would’ve dug deeper and saved myself a lot of heartache.

  It took me a long time to see my failure, to really explore my fears, because I already knew the answer—I didn’t want to know the truth.

  “Well, I was really wrong back then . . .”

  She sighs. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong now. You’re not the same girl anymore. You were young, and he took advantage of you.”

  “Being young isn’t an excuse. I’m at fault here. I should’ve pushed for answers. I wasn’t young—I was dumb.”

  “So a man, who was ten years older than you, tells you everything you want to hear and gives you a dream opportunity that will set you up financially and career wise, plays on your emotions, gets you to trust him, and then fucks your head up is okay?”

  Of course, it’s not okay. I never said I wasn’t victimized, but she’s missing the point. “I played a role in this, Kris. Your husband fucked around on you, did you not blame her?”

  She shakes her head. “This isn’t even remotely the same. Jillian knew that Scott was married and had two kids. She was an active participant in that affair. Hell, she set up their little sex weekend trips, called me to tell me he was out of town, and then hopped on a flight. She tried to be my friend, and all the while, she was screwing my husband. You left him the minute you found out.”

  “We’re going to have to agree to disagree,” I tell her as I drop my head back against the couch.

  I loved Andy more than anything. Yeah, I was twenty-three and naïve, but I was smart enough to know better. Too often, we blame things on being too young to understand, but that doesn’t mean that Andy’s wife wasn’t devastated. She had to find out that some blonde with big tits was fucking her husband. He was going to leave her, and I was why.

  Me.

  I was the homewrecker, and I’ve hated myself ever since.

  �
�I’m going to ask you something . . .” Kristin warns.

  “Aren’t you supposed to ask someone if you can ask a question, not tell them you’re going to? “

  “Sure, if I gave a shit about your boundaries.”

  I roll my eyes. “Nice.”

  “Oh, please!” She laughs. “You are the last one to talk. Anyway, my question is this: do you think you deserve love and happiness? I’m not saying with your friends or work, but a real relationship. A man who will love you, honor you, and give you a life built on trust?”

  I don’t answer her. Not because I don’t know what my response would be but because it will launch us into another three-hour fight that I don’t have the energy for. I don’t know what I deserve, but sometimes, I wonder if never finding a man who is worthy is part of my punishment.

  Instead, I release a deep breath and smile. “I think I have the life I want, and for now, that’s all I need.”

  Kristin’s eyes narrow, probably knowing there’s some hidden meaning in my words. “Well, I think you’re wrong, Nicole. I think you want more, you just don’t want to. To answer my own question, though, there is no one in this world who deserves to be loved more than you, my beautiful friend. No one.”

  If only I believed her, maybe I could forgive myself and learn to let someone in.

  Chapter Eight

  Nicole

  Okay, stay calm, he’s just a man.

  A sexy, tall, beautiful man with a voice that does strange things to my lady bits, but whatever.

  This is business. It’s a simple transaction between Dovetail Enterprises and Dupree Designs. It means no sex, no flirting, no dreaming of ripping off his clothes and riding his cock like a cowgirl on her stud. All of that want and those ideas were pre-contract.

  I have three million reasons to make this work.

  “Nicole, Mr. Huxley is here,” Kim says through the intercom.

  “Please send him in.”

  I manage to get the words out without sounding completely breathless. I’m taking that as progress.

  I stand because sitting feels like giving him the upper hand and I need all the power I can grab before Callum walks in and steals it all for himself. His presence is like catnip to girls like me. I don’t really think I have “daddy issues,” per se. It’s more like powerful men make me feel good. When my father walked into a room, people noticed. There was something alluring about that. Watching other people stop and stare, wondering, wanting, and attaining.

  A few seconds later, Callum enters. My heart begins to race as I take him in. His broad shoulders, deep-blue eyes, and sandy-brown hair are even sexier than I remember. And his watch. God, his fucking watch. How does a man make a watch look that good? He touches it as though he could read my mind, adjusting the face, the very big face that still looks somewhat small on his arm. How the hell that’s possible, I’ll never know, but it hasn’t stopped me from trying to figure it out. All I’ve done the last three days is dream of him.

  In very naughty ways.

  Now he’s in front of me, and I’m suddenly very warm.

  “Nicole,” he says with warmth as he moves forward.

  “Callum.” I clear my throat and then walk toward him. “It’s great to see you.”

  His eyes glimmer in the sunlight, and when we’re close, I extend my hand. He takes it, and then pulls me closer and places a kiss on my cheek, which isn’t at all what I expect.

  I’m so thrown off that I don’t prepare myself not to inhale his cologne. I don’t think to guard myself so I won’t practically collide against his solid chest. No, I go face first, nearly toppling over in my four-inch heels.

  His arms wrap around me, stopping me from going down.

  I forget, because I’m just a girl, that I shouldn’t look up at him. I shouldn’t stand here, in his arms, breathing in the musky scent that surrounds him, but here I am, doing just that.

  “Are you all right?”

  The sound of his voice snaps me out of my daze. “Yes, thank you.” I push off his chest and right myself. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.”

  He grins. “I guess we both have been thrown off a bit by the recent events.”

  You can say that again.

  “Well, I appreciate you taking the meeting today. I know you’re heading back to London soon.”

  He nods. “Yes, I’m due to leave first thing tomorrow, but I may be delayed another two days. I haven’t decided yet.”

  The ocean that would be between us is one of the reasons I agreed to this deal. Since it’s kind of hard to fuck someone when they aren’t on the same continent, I would have been safe.

  “After a lot of consideration, I’d like to take on the project. I think that with my designs and the plans your father had in place, we will work really well together. Hopefully, there will be a lot of great opportunities for collaboration in the future.”

  Kristin had brought up a lot of great points regarding the difference with Andy and Callum, but the most important one had been me. I’m in control here. My heart is in no danger unless I allow it to be. At the end of the day, business is business, and I would hate myself for walking away because of some guy I don’t even know.

  So, for the sake of the company I’ve spent my life building, I’m not passing this up. I have a renewed sense of determination. A level-head. And no way will I end up horizontal with Callum. Vertical is the only option.

  But there’s always wall sex.

  No. Not even going there.

  Callum smirks at me as though he can read my mind. “I’m glad you’ve come around to me.”

  “Regarding the project.” I clear up any confusion on what I’m agreeing to.

  He shrugs. “For now.”

  “Forever.”

  “I’d like to discuss the details a little deeper,” Callum says as he sits.

  I take my own seat, thankful that my desk is oversized so it puts additional space between us. “Okay.”

  “Over dinner.”

  Well, should’ve seen that one coming. “Why not discuss it now?”

  Callum leans back, cracking his neck while his eyes stay glued on me. “Because I don’t really know many people here other than Ted, and we both know he’s a tool.”

  I let out a short laugh. “And smells like onions.”

  “That too,” Callum agrees. “That said, I’d like to have a dinner meeting, go over the details, and get some things on paper. I’m assuming you do entertain clients from time to time?”

  “I do.” This is such a bad idea, but again, I’m going to treat this like I would any other client I would have. Reality is that he’s paying me a fuckton of money, if he wants dinner, then I need to find a way to make it through without taking my panties off. “Dinner tonight would be possible. Unfortunately, I’m babysitting my niece tomorrow so it’s my only availability.”

  He smiles. “Tonight would be fine. I would like to head back to London knowing we’re at least on the right track.”

  “I agree.”

  “You have no other clients you need to work with?”

  I have other small projects, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’m committed to this project, Callum. I assure you that I can handle it.”

  His fingers are steepled in front of him, and he nods. “That’s good to know. Considering the rather large sum of money, I’m just ensuring your time is open.”

  “We’re fine.”

  “You know, part of what makes me a good businessman is being able to read people. I had a feeling about you the minute we met. I understand now what my father saw in you because I see it as well.” His voice is deep and raspy. “I believe this is a great beginning for us.”

  The compliment washes over me. “I won’t let you or your late father down.”

  Callum gets to his feet. “I didn’t think you would.”

  I come around the desk, and his hand touches the small of my back as we get to my door. It’s a gesture many men make, but there’s something about hi
s touch that feels different. I shove it down, focusing on not falling into his arms again. “Thank you. I’ll have my secretary send you the details for dinner tonight.”

  He grins. “I look forward to it.”

  Just like earlier, he leans forward, only this time I’m a little more prepared. His lips touch my cheek, staying a second past what is considered friendly, his nose grazes the skin, and I swear my legs go weak, but I stay upright.

  I swallow down the desire to wrap my arms around him and kiss the fuck out of him. “Tonight, then.”

  His voice is huskier than a moment ago. “Tonight.”

  He leaves the room, and I flop down onto the couch with my arm over my face. I am in so much freaking trouble.

  “What are you wearing to this dinner?” Heather asks on the video call.

  “A muumuu?” I huff and then toss another shirt onto the bed.

  “Like you would even own one of those!”

  “Shut up.”

  She laughs and then points. “Oh, wear the red dress!”

  “I want him not to want to have sex with me, Heather! Not fuck my brains out against the car.”

  Seriously, how is she helping? This is what happens when your best friend runs off to watch her husband film another movie. I’m happy for Eli, but does she have to go with him all the damn time? Doesn’t he know she has friends who are needy as fuck and require her attention? Selfish husbands, all of them.

  “Good luck with that. I’m straight and I’d do you.”

  “Awww.” I smile into the camera. “I love when you talk dirty to me. But you’re a prude, so you’d never actually follow through. I, on the other hand, would at least make out with you. I’m more into two men, but I could make an exception if you’re really interested.”