Rush - Page 31

I’m not in the running to win any competitions, but I can hit the ocean confident that I’ll ride a wave or two.

“What else has your brother told you about me?” I ask quietly, wondering whether Drake offered information or if she inquired.

For some reason, I want it to be the latter.

“You’ve never been married?”

“Is that a question?” I call her out on the way she phrased her words. “That sounded like a question.”

She settles back onto the couch, gripping her hands together in her lap. Her cheeks blush. “You’re single. You’ve never been married.”

True . I convey that to her with a silent nod.

“What about you, Emma? Married, divorced, engaged, dating someone?”

I don’t waste the opportunity to pry into her life. I’ve been curious since I first saw her.

Her gaze drops to her left hand. “I was engaged. I’m not anymore.”

Who the hell is the idiot who put a ring on her finger and didn’t seal the deal?

“You were engaged? To who?” I blurt out.

Her brows pop up. “Beauregard Garrington.”

He sounds like a pretentious son-of-bitch.

“Our dads are old friends. We work together. It seemed like it all fit …” Her voice trails.

“Until it didn’t?” I finish.

She nods. “I broke it off because I knew he wasn’t my forever.”

“How did Beau take that?”

A smile blooms on her lips. “He hated it whenever I called him that.”

Jesus. This guy is not only pretentious; he’s a goddamn idiot.

“He said he knew I’d bail.” She shakes her head. “He told me I was a disappointment to everyone.”

I’d pull her into my arms to comfort her, but she doesn’t look like she needs it. She seems content.

“When did this happen, Emma?”

Her mouth twitches. “I gave Beauregard the ring back a week ago. It was the same day he told me to find a new job.”

Chapter 25

Emma

I just confessed to Case what I came to New York City to tell my brother.

When I broke up with Beau, I called Drake, but he was in a meeting. He returned my call a few hours later, but I was at a yoga class at the gym. My phone was silenced in my locker.

The voicemail message my brother left me was focused on the fact that he was in the middle of a crisis with a competitor. He was on his way to see one of Cabbott’s lawyers.

I listened to the message all the while staring at my bare ring finger, feeling a sense of relief I hadn’t in a long time.

Beau was wrong for me even though my entire family thought he was my prince charming. Drake was his biggest fan. My brother worked summers in high school with Beau at my dad’s car dealership.

Two years ago, when I told Drake I was going on my first date with Beauregard, he was more excited than I was.

“Bonehead is your boss?” Case shoves his hand through his hair.

I laugh at the nickname. It’s perfect. “Bonehead?”

Case’s brows pinch together. “I’ve never met the asshole, but I can tell he’s a bonehead. Hell, he’s a lot worse than that for the shit he’s pulling, but bonehead seems to fit.”

“Like a glove,” I say. “I work for The Garrington Academy. It’s a private school in Seattle. Technically, Beauregard’s dad is my boss.”

He looks at me for several seconds as if he’s debating whether to delve more into my connection to the Garringtons. “What’s his stance on your job?”

“I haven’t spoken to Archibald yet.” I shrug. “He’s very by the book, so I don’t think he’ll fire me because I dumped his son.”

“Archibald?” Case grins. “What century were these people born in?”

“The one where you don’t have sex until you’re married,” I quip.

I don’t know why I shared that. I knew Beau’s stance on sex after our third date, but I continued to see him. I thought he would want to be intimate once we became engaged, but he held tight to his belief that waiting for marriage was right for him.

I respected that about him until he shamed me for the fun I had before we started dating.

That was the day our relationship suffered a crack that was too deep to be repaired.

Case tilts his head back to look at me. “You’re a virgin?”

“No. Before Beau there were men,” I answer quickly.

“How old are you, Emma?”

I’d change the subject, but I’m enjoying this too much. With each question, he inches closer by a breath.

“Twenty-five,” I say softly.

His eyes rake over my shirt. I know that my nipples have hardened beneath the thin fabric. He’s looking at me in a way that makes me want to race to my room, climb in bed, and bring myself to orgasm.

I’ve never seen desire this intense in a man’s gaze before.

“You don’t need me to tell you this,” he pauses for a beat. “But, you were engaged to the biggest dumbass on this planet.”

Tags: Deborah Bladon Romance
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