More Than Want You (More Than Words 1)

“You okay?” Britta comes up behind me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I just guiltily shove the phone in my pocket. I hate that she’s going to be angry with me. I hate that she’s probably going to quit. I search for something to say, some persuasion I can give her to make her understand that my decision to use Keeley to eliminate the competition is in no way a reflection of how I feel about her. Britta really is like a sister to me.

Damn it.

“I’m all right. Just a lot on my mind. Friday is coming up fast.”

“Yeah.” She blows out a breath. “My nervous stomach feels that. So does my mouse hand.”

As she shakes the appendage, I smile. “The graphics you’ve created are great so far. Thanks for making the phone calls to those nonprofit organizations you heard about.”

She nods. “I’m glad I remembered reading that article last night about how some of them keep their portfolios solid by buying real estate. I’m excited that United Way, Catholic Charities USA, and Goodwill all said they’d be willing to look more closely at the property next week.”

“I think it’s a strategy that could both keep the Stowes happy and make sure the place benefits others in the future.” At least I hope I’m not wrong. I don’t mention my doubts now.

It’s really too late to change direction. I have to hope Keeley comes through.

“Exactly. One of the organizations talked about using it for corporate retreats and donor gatherings, which isn’t my favorite but a necessary evil, I guess. Another charity talked about it as a recovery center for people dealing with depression and suicidal tendencies—that kind of stuff. I’ve only seen pictures, but I think this estate would be perfect.”

I agree.

“Anyway, great job.”

She looks around the office and sees Rob ducking into the bathroom. “Did you decide what you’re going to do about Keeley and…”

“Griff?” My gut tightens.

She nods as if she’d rather not say his name. “Any thoughts?”

I hate to lie to her. I really do. But Keeley isn’t going to have sex with Griff. She probably won’t even kiss him again. Right?

“Nothing is final,” I finally mutter. “I’m just…”

I let that trail off so she can draw her own conclusion. I don’t want to hurt her—and part of that is not freaking her out unnecessarily.

She gives me a stiff nod. “How are things going between you two?”

I blink at Britta. I might be steering into a gray area about my business plan but no reason not to come clean here. “I’m in love with her. I realized that for sure last night when my dad suddenly appeared on my doorstep and infuriated the hell out of me.” I fill her in about my parents’ divorce and what a fuckbag my dad is. “Keeley was there to make sure I didn’t commit murder. Or fall apart. She’s really great. You guys will get along, I’m sure.”

As soon as she’s done “distracting” Griff. Then we just won’t talk about that. It will all end well, so what’s the point of hurting Britta?

“You, in love? She and I got off to a bad start, which was my fault, but I want to shake her hand.” She smiles softly. “Can you two come to dinner tonight?”

I nearly stumble on my tongue.

“She can’t. She’s got plans,” I say vaguely.

I’m uncomfortable that I’m lying like a motherfucker. I’m even aware that in the last twelve hours my morals have been…iffy. But I’m going to get business managed, then I’m going to be the most devoted husband for the rest of my life.

If Keeley will still have me.

“Why don’t I take you and Jamie to dinner somewhere? Coconut’s?”

“Sure.” She smiles. “Fish tacos sound great. Makaio had to hop over to Oahu for a meeting until Thursday, so it will just be the three of us.”

“Fantastic.” I’m relieved actually. He’s a decent guy and all…but I feel weird seeing her with someone other than my brother. Stupid, I know. But they just seemed so meant to be. “Did you…um, accept his proposal?”

“Not yet,” she says with a shake of her head. “Jamie slammed his finger in a door last night. He’s okay, but we had to make a trip to the ER. His finger needs a splint for the next two weeks, but you can’t tell a toddler to leave something like that alone, so we had to wait to see the orthopedic surgeon on call and get his advice. We got home late. So Makaio and I didn’t get to talk about anything before he left and I collapsed into bed.”

Then this dinner is perfect timing. I can spend time with Jamie and make sure Britta doesn’t find out where Keeley is tonight…while I talk her out of marrying a guy she doesn’t love.

Rob emerges from the bathroom, checking his long, floppy bang in the mirror one last time before he flips off the light. He frowns. “You two all right?”

“Fine.” Britta checks her watch. “Actually, if you’re happy with our progress on the presentation, I’m going to scoot out a few minutes early to pick Jamie up. I told his pediatrician that I’d swing by so she could look at his finger, too. She’ll probably set his entire hand and forearm in a cast until it heals.”

“Seven o’clock okay?”

“Perfect.” She shuts off her computer and retrieves her purse.

“I’ll pick you up.”

Seconds later, she dashes out of the office. Rob watches her go. The second the door swings shut behind her, he turns to me with an expectant stare.

I know what he wants. Goddamn, he’s always been a pushy bastard. I more than slightly resent his interference.

“Keeley is having dinner with Griff tonight. I lied to Britta and I feel like a heel. Back off.”

Suddenly, he’s all smiles as he claps me on the back. “I knew you’d come to your senses. You’re not the kind of man to put pussy before profit.”

I snap. I don’t know why. He’s made similar statements in the past, and his point of view made sense to me back then.

Now it just pisses me off.

Without any conscious decision, I find myself picking Rob up by his shirt and shoving him against the wall. “Shut the fuck up. Keeley is not just a pussy. She’s a woman. She’s smart. She has a big heart. And she deserves respect. You know, maybe you’re not married because you treat women like interchangeable whores.”

“What the hell is up your ass? ’Cause let me remind you, you’re no better, chief. I don’t know what kind of special magic this woman’s cunt has, but it’s addled your brain. You’re being an asshole. Get your hands off me.”

I let go—but I don’t step back. “I’m opening my eyes. I’m seeing the value of women as people and I feel like a prick that I didn’t do it sooner. But I had my old man as a role model, so it took me extra time to pull my head out of my ass. What’s your excuse for being a miserable misogynist?”

“Fuck you.” He pushes me away. “I respect women. I’m great with clients. I’ve never treated Britta as anything other than my peer and my equal.”

I actually can’t fault him there. He’s golden to clients. He’s been pleasant, kind, deferential, even fatherly at times with Britta. He’s helped her assemble a swing set for Jamie, rescued her when her car got a flat in the rain, and helped look after her when she sprained her ankle. I know he’s not in love with her or anything. To him, women are either Madonnas or whores, no in between.

That used to be me. I see that now. I feel like an asshole all over again.

I’m thankful once more that Keeley came into my life.

“See if you can extend that to the other women around you. You threatened to quit yesterday if I didn’t all but whore out my…” Gir

lfriend? Love? I can’t say fiancée…yet. “Well, Keeley. But let’s get one thing clear: I will fire your ass if your attitude doesn’t improve.”