Three Broken Promises Page 8

  A shudder runs through me and I flop back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. For once, there’s no Jen in my bed to offer me comfort, holding me in her arms after my nightmare.

  Fuck. That one had been a doozy.

  Rarely do I dream about Jen, and I figure that’s because she’s such a part of my day-to-day life, I don’t need to see her in my dreams. Well, I have the occasional sweaty sex dream, where I imagine her naked and me thrusting deep inside her welcoming body. Unfortunately, that particularly fantasy is all too rare.

  This last nightmare scared the hell out of me. Finding her in the car, her hand on the guy, him groping her . . .

  The way she looked at me, the things she said . . .

  Go away, Colin! I don’t need you. I’ve never needed you!

  Jesus.

  Breathing deep, I throw my arm over my eyes, trying my best to block out the words. Instead I concentrate on slowing my heart rate, willing myself to fall back asleep, but I can’t.

  All I can think about is the damn dream. Jen. Jennifer Cade dancing on a fucking stage like some sort of sex goddess—for other men. Since when did I want her to be my personal sex goddess?

  Longer than you ever realized, asshole.

  Right. I’ve turned into an angst-ridden asshole that can do nothing but mope and push a girl away. The kind of man who could probably turn his life into something pretty amazing, if only I would let her in. If only I could drop my walls.

  Women have moved in and out of my life. Nameless faces, pretty bodies, girls I’ve used for physical release and nothing else. Relationships are nonexistent. I’ve never wanted one. Never thought a woman would want one with me. I’m just like my father. I can’t settle down. Dad tried but he left, keeping Mom on a string. A string she happily lets herself stay attached to.

  I don’t get it.

  I think of pissed-off Fable and wonder if her boyfriend would give me any advice. Chuckling, I roll over on my side and close my eyes. Yeah, we’re sort of friends and we get along all right, but come on. I’m older than the guy, though not by much. I’ve actually lived my life, whereas he’s been shuttled from one school to another by Daddy’s money, never having to work a day beyond perfecting his throw and submersing himself completely in football.

  Yeah, I have money too. Now. Dad always had money since he inherited a fortune from my grandpa a couple of years after I was born, but for the most part, he made me work for mine, the motherfucker. He’d given me the restaurant just like his father had given him one long ago when I was a baby, when he left Mom, and after extensive training, he left me to my own devices. He’d come back into my life time and again, wanting us to work together, and I reluctantly agreed.

  We’re so similar, it’s hard working with him. We clash constantly.

  My mom took what he gave her, always muttering to me what a cheap jackass he was, though I know that’s not true. I don’t understand them, don’t understand how they fell in love and decided to marry in the first place. The two of them—especially now—make zero sense together.

  They’re still freaking married, for Christ’s sake. I think she secretly wishes he’ll come back to her. I think he likes knowing that she’s there, waiting for him. Their relationship is sick and twisted. The push and pull between them. The arguments. No wonder I don’t want a relationship. Look at the example I’ve been given.

  Yeah. My life is completely different from Drew’s. But maybe the guy could help me. It might not hurt to have a different perspective.

  At the very least, Drew could help knock some sense into me because he seems like a sensible guy. He has to be to deal with Fable on a day-to-day basis. That woman is crazy. Crazy beautiful, crazy protective, crazy opinionated, crazy all of the above and then some, but the most loyal girlfriend I’ve ever witnessed.

  You’re just irritated with Fable because she called you out on your shit.

  True. She made me face things I really didn’t want to see.

  I still don’t.

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  I take a swig from my beer, glancing at Drew. “What makes you think I want to talk about something specific?” My voice is falsely jovial, as is my smile. We’re at a bar downtown, one not even close to my restaurant, a place where the college kids really don’t hang out. It’s geared more toward the older local guys who get out of work and are looking for a drink or two before they gotta go home and face reality. I chose the location on purpose, didn’t want any distractions.

  “I guess we’re—friends, but it’s not like we hang out.” Drew frowns. “I don’t think you’ve ever asked me to meet you at a bar and have a few beers. We usually have the girls with us as a buffer.”

  He’s right. We always have Fable and Jen with us.

  “Fable’s angry with me,” I say, changing the subject. Slightly.

  Drew nods, his expression grim. “I know. She’ll get over it. I told her she can’t tell everyone what to do.”

  I’m shocked that he knows, but then again, I’m not. Those two tell each other everything. There are no secrets between them from what I can tell. “I think she’s mad at Jen, too.”

  “She was, but they hashed it out or whatever earlier, and now everything’s fine.”

  Well, hell. I had no idea. Of course, I haven’t seen or heard from Jen all day long. I’m sure she’s avoiding me. I can’t freaking blame her.

  “I’m guessing everyone getting pissed at each other has to do with you and Jen?” Drew raises a brow, waiting for my answer, which he already knows.

  I nod, feeling glum. “I should apologize.”

  “It would help, I’m sure,” Drew says wryly.

  Damn it. This is not how I envisioned myself, acting like a mopey jackass over a woman. I’m a take-charge kind of guy. I see something I want, I go after it. Usually. But for whatever reason, I deny myself when it comes to Jen.

  Women are good only for some occasional relief. I don’t care about them or their feelings. I don’t have time to nurture a relationship. Whatever a woman wanted from me, I only gave her my physical self. My emotions, my thoughts? Those were always mine.

  It’s so easy to fall into bed with a woman. Have sex, give each other pleasure. It’s the aftermath that scares me. That’s why I can’t chance it with Jen. She’s my friend first, and she fucking matters. I know I’d ruin it between us. Jen would want more than I could give. I’d disappoint her and she’d break it off with me. For good.

  I can’t risk it.

  “I plan on taking Jen to Sacramento tomorrow to help her look for an apartment, take her to a few job interviews she has lined up,” I say, keeping my gaze locked on the beer bottle in front of me, watching the neck sweat with condensation.

  “And why the hell would you do that?”

  I try not to react to the level calmness in Drew’s voice, but damn. The way he’s talking unnerves me. Being here, supposedly asking for his advice, sets me on edge. What the fuck am I doing?

  “If I can’t keep her here with me, I may as well take her where she wants to go and help her,” I say quietly. Ice-cold shock washes over my skin at my admission. It’s one thing to have all of these thoughts bottled up inside me. It’s quite another to actually hear myself say the words out loud.

  “Huh. I never figured you for a complete pussy.” Drew slouches over the counter, gripping his near-empty beer bottle and spinning it between his fingers.

  Turning, I glare at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?”

  Drew flicks his gaze at me, then looks away. “You heard me. I thought you had more balls than that, man. It’s one thing to let her walk out of your life. It’s a whole other thing to be the one behind the steering wheel, driving her the fuck out of here. No wonder Fable’s pissed at you.”

  “I don’t understand why either of you would really give a shit,” I mutter, irritation flowing through my veins, firing my blood. He’s insulting my manhood, for the love of God! He called me a pussy and s
aid I had no balls.

  Fuck that noise. I’m outta here.

  “I am the absolute last person to give you advice,” Drew says just as I’m sliding off my bar stool. He knows I’m ready to bail, that I don’t want to hear what he has to say. “After all, I’m the idiot who ran from Fable when I should’ve been running to her.”

  I pause, listening despite wanting to tell him to eat shit.

  “If I could do it all over again, I would’ve been honest from the start. I would’ve told her what she meant to me. I would’ve never run, never pushed her away. I would’ve pulled her into my arms and never, ever let her go.”

  Tilting my head, I keep my back to him, absorbing his words, the pain behind them. Those two suffered, I know that much. When I first hired Fable, I thought Drew was a bad influence on her. I thought he was some slick-talking asshole ready to slide into her life, mess with her head, and then dump her.

  Turns out he was the best thing that ever happened to Fable. They’re good for each other. Balance each other out. I would never say this out loud, but . . . I’m jealous of their relationship. They love each other fiercely, are so damn protective of each other.

  I want that. Most likely I could have that. With Jen.

  Could you? Could you really? Or have you already ruined it?

  “I’m an asshole.” Slowly, I turn to face him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Because I’d have to agree.”

  Drew smiles. “That’s not all I want you to take away from this, but yeah. Stop being an asshole. And stop denying yourself what you feel. Go with it. Be with her. You want to be with her, don’t you?”

  I offer the tiniest nod in answer but can’t make a sound. Just the idea of confirming that I want Jen with actual words to another person chokes me up.

  Having Jen means I need to open myself up to her completely. The thought of that is scary. What if she doesn’t like what she sees? What if I disappoint her? It could happen. I disappoint everyone in my life. My mom, my dad, Danny.

  It’s easier to pretend she’s only my friend rather than admit I want more. The idea of her rejection scares the hell out of me.

  “Then tell her. At the very least, show her.” He pauses. “She deserves it, after what she’s suffered. With the loss of Danny, and . . .” His voice trails off and I wonder what else he’s talking about.

  Probably me, and everything I’ve done to her to let her down.

  “I’ve done her wrong.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “I did her entire family wrong. I’ve broken promises I’ve made to her family throughout the years again and again.”

  “What sort of promises?” Drew asks, interrupting me.

  I stop and stare at him. “What did you say?”

  “I asked what sort of promises did you break? I’m curious.” He holds his hands up in front of him when I send him a thunderous glare. “I know it’s none of my business. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  I swore I would stand by Danny no matter what. And when I didn’t do that, I promised my best friend I would take care of his sister. I promised their parents I would take care of the both of them. I lost Danny and wanted to save Jen—and I did so. But I broke that promise, too. I swore nothing bad would happen to her. Terrible, awful things happened to Jen when she was at Gold Diggers.

  I failed on all counts.

  “I promised Danny we would join the military the same day together and I bailed.” Just saying the words aloud fills me with regret.

  “Why didn’t you sign up?”

  “My dad made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. He gave me a restaurant to run, my very own business that would belong only to me, with the potential for more.” What kid wouldn’t jump at that opportunity?

  “What else?” Drew prompts, pushing me, and I cave willingly.

  “I promised Danny I would take care of his sister. I failed at that too.” Big time. “I—I don’t deserve her.”

  “You really believe that?” Drew asks quietly.

  I hate how calm he looks, how sure he is of himself in this very moment, while my emotions are all over the damn place. I’m the confident one. I’m the one that never lets anything bother him, who can take care of every situation and make it all right once more.

  With the exception of the entire Cade family. I screw them over again and again.

  “Yeah,” I finally answer.

  “Then prove yourself wrong, man.” Drew shakes his head. “Prove yourself wrong.”

  Chapter 9

  Jen

  “Rise and shine, sweet cheeks.”

  I snuggle closer into my pillow, squeezing my eyes shut against the early morning sunlight streaming into my room. I know I didn’t leave the blinds open before I went to bed. I must be dreaming. And no way is Colin in my room calling me sweet cheeks. I mean, what the hell?

  “Jennifer Lynn Cade.” He gives my shoulder a shake and I shrug his hand off, totally aware of the heat from his touch on my skin. “If we want to make it to Sacramento at a decent hour, you need to get up and get ready.”

  Okay. Something is definitely wrong with this picture. First, Colin is most definitely in my room. Usually I’m the one in his room trying to wake him up from yet another terrible dream that tends to send him deeper into this downward spiral of self-hatred.

  Second, Colin sounds downright affectionate. What the hell?

  “Lazy,” he murmurs just before he slaps—yes, slaps—my ass. “Come on, sweet cheeks. Let’s do this.”

  I scooch my sweet cheeks away from where I can feel him sitting on my bed. Cracking my eyes open, I find him right next to me, wearing jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that stretches across his shoulders and chest in the yummiest way. The man is as big as a mountain and I’m ready to climb him. “Did you just call me what I think you called me?”

  He smiles, and it’s like a billion tiny daggers straight to my heart. I can practically feel it cracking in my chest, he’s so damn beautiful. “Considering your ass is hanging out of those tiny shorts you’re wearing at the moment, I think I can say on proper authority that your cheeks are pretty damn sweet.”

  “Oh my God.” The cheeks on my face are so hot my skin feels like it’s going to catch fire as I jerk the blankets back over me. I didn’t even realize I was only half-covered by the comforter and that he could see the tiny shorts I wear to bed. Sans panties.

  How freaking mortifying!

  His mood doesn’t fit. Lately he’s been so somber and sullen and Mister Downer, I’m surprised to see the smile still pasted to his face. I shouldn’t say “pasted” because it looks genuine and I have to admit, I like seeing it. I like seeing him happy and carefree. It reminds me of the past, before all this heavy, awful shit happened.

  “Like I haven’t seen your ass before.” He stands and stretches, lifting his arms high above his head, making a rough sound in the back of his throat that’s undeniably sexy. His shirt rises with the movement, offering a glimpse of his flat, toned stomach, and I’m filled with the urge to lick him there.

  God bless America, what is wrong with me? I’m sitting here gaping at him like some sort of shell-shocked war victim. I can’t think about licking Colin’s perfect abs. I need to concentrate on getting the hell out of here before I do something incredibly stupid.

  Like, you know, attempt to lick Colin’s abs.

  “You’ve got ten minutes to get those sweet cheeks into the shower and get ready. Then we’re hitting the road,” he commands as he drops his arms to his sides, his voice full of that aggressive authority I would never admit arouses me like nothing else.

  Sometimes I really love it when he bosses me around.

  “Hitting the road where?” I ask, my gaze following his right hand. It reaches beneath his shirt, scratching his belly lazily, lifting the hem so I catch another peek of all that tempting skin. Dark golden hair trails from beneath his navel, a path that, yep, I want to follow with my tongue. See where it takes
me.

  Hmm, I know exactly where it’ll take me and I so want to go there.

  Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head hard as hell against the headboard, irritated with my train of thought. Am I horny? Was I having an amazingly realistic sex dream, or what? Having him here in my room, on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about him. What I’d like to do to him. Naked. With my mouth and my tongue and my . . .

  “I’m driving you to Sacramento, remember?”

  I open my eyes to find him watching me, one brow cocked, his hands on his hips. He looks . . . gorgeous. Good enough to eat. Irritated with me, too—I can see it in his pretty crystal-blue eyes. But there’s amusement flashing there as well, so he’s not that pissed at me.

  Only sorta.

  “Don’t you have stuff planned today? In Sac? You know, looking for a job, an apartment, all of those important things a girl needs to do to move on with her life?” he prods.

  It’s all coming back to me now. God, my brain is a foggy mess, especially when I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet. “I have two job interviews later today. Both of them not till this afternoon, though.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find a job pretty quick.” He sends me a look, one that’s all business. “If you need a reference, don’t hesitate to put my name down on the application. I won’t sabotage this for you, Jen. I hope you know that.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” I automatically say, but really? I’m not too sure. I’m suspicious of his mood. He’s been protesting my wanting to leave since I made the announcement and now he’s going to be my first-class, sexy-as-hell escort into my new life? I don’t get it.

  More than anything, I flat-out don’t get him.

  “I’d love to stand around and chat, but we’re wasting time. You need to get ready.” He grabs the end of the comforter and yanks it right off me, making me shriek. Damn it, I’m in nothing but a thin white tank top and no bra, plus the shorts that bared my ass to him already.