Wrong Man, Right Kiss (Gage Brothers 2)

“I thought you had a show,” he said, his tone indicating that he didn’t really care about her answer.

She still wanted to tell him—because he used to be the only one who truly listened—that it had gone well, that the reviews were excellent and everyone thought she was the luckiest person on earth to have succeeded so young. They thought she had it all.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t have what she wanted most. Had always wanted.

“I got back from the opening yesterday,” she said slowly, her hands restless at her sides, fiddling with the skirt of her dress. “Everyone seemed to like my paintings, except for my two most depressing ones.” The ones that suck because of you.

“You have no depressing works,” he said, pointing at her.

He pursed his lips as he once again scanned his surroundings. Then he shook his head in disgust, marched back to the closet, yanked open the doors and began to pull out his clothes briskly from the hangers.

She felt an unwelcome rush of desire when he began to change right before her eyes. He pulled off his wet suit with a snap, and when he peeled it from his thighs and kicked it off, she saw his nude backside. Glorious muscles rippled and clenched as he put on his Boss underwear and khaki pants. He slipped on a polo shirt and buttoned the two top buttons, then crossed the room toward the cottage door and tried to force the knob. He cursed under his breath when it didn’t open and angrily swung around to her.

“So you’re into kidnapping now, Molls? Is that your new kick?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m into spanking, kidnapping and robbing unsuspecting clients of their money while I fail to complete their murals.”

Jaw clamped, he stormed to one of the windows and attempted to open it so forcibly the glass rattled in its frame. He acted as if he was in prison and eager to be set free, which just made Molly sigh in despair.

“Look, this wasn’t my idea, but I think the plan is brilliant,” she said.

“Except for one flaw,” he said wickedly, unlocking a second window with a surprising click. He cocked a devil-may-care brow at her and grinned as he pushed upward, only to realize there was another lock on the outside and the glass stayed right in place, no matter how hard he tried to get it open. “Damn.”

“You don’t want to talk to me, Julian, that’s fine,” Molly said softly. “But I need to talk to you. So now you’re going to have to hear me out. Even if you break one of those windows, Jules, what are you planning to do? Let in some fresh air?”

He scowled as she pointed at the forged-iron bars on the outside.

“Your mother had that design made specially to keep the drunk teenagers from getting in like they’ve been doing at other lake houses, and if they can’t come in through those bars, I doubt even you can go out through them.”

The glare he shot her could’ve been Lucifer’s. “I can’t believe this idiocy. First they don’t want me near you, now they lock me up with you?”

Shaking his head, he paced like a caged lion.

His tumultuous energy spun through the room like a whirlwind, making her want to go over there, wrap her arms around him and calm him down like she had many times before when he was irritated about other things.

But now he s

aw her as untrustworthy, and he wouldn’t want to open up. Now his irritation was caused by the fact that he was locked in the same room as Molly.

“Your family has realized we’re miserable and they’re trying to make amends. Well, I have been miserable,” she added, watching him pace. “Jules, will you please look at me so I can talk to you? Or do I need to call you JJ to make you react?”

He stopped in his tracks, his hands curling at his sides, fingers clenching. Although his face was a mask of cold indifference, his eyes blazed with intensity. “Don’t even think about provoking me.”

“Or you’ll what? Kiss me?”

His glare was as bleak as a cemetery. “I’ll spank the hell out of you, how about that? I’m through with kissing you, Molls.”

The decisiveness in his words summoned a fresh wave of outrage from her. “Really? And who says I even want you to?”

“A closed door with a lock on it, that’s who!” His teeth were clenched so tight, she could see a muscle twitch in the back of his jaw.

She glowered at him, but feared in the innermost part of her, where a candle of hope flickered its last lights, that this battle was already lost. Apparently, not only was her presence not wanted, her kiss was worth nothing to him, either. But she, on the other hand, remembered perfectly all the things she had done as a result of his masquerade kiss. “So are you going to listen to me, JJ? God, I’m trying to fix things here!” she cried.

He looked up at the ceiling and pinched his eyes shut as though supremely tested. She thought she heard him counting under his breath, stopping at thirty-eight, his hands still clenching and unclenching.

Gradually, he turned around to plant his hands on the wall, then stared out the window with his forehead almost touching the glass pane. His voice was a coarsened whisper. “I’m damned well listening. So talk.”