The Hotter You Burn (The Original Heartbreakers 2)

“This, and about a thousand more.”

“Still upset about Tawny?”

Tawny. Apparently the curvy blonde had been coming to the house ever since their date, plaguing Jase with questions. Has Beck been seeing other women? Has Beck ever been in love? How does Beck feel about kids?

Yes. No. And girl, please. Kids were not in his future and never would be. He’d even considered getting snipped—still might do it.

“No. I’m over it.” He’d sat down with Tawny and had a gentle heart-to-heart, telling her they weren’t a couple and they weren’t ever going to be a couple. As he’d spoken, she’d tried to crawl into his lap and stuff her hand down his pants.

He’d had to get stern, telling her they weren’t having sex again, either, and he’d been clear about that from the beginning.

When she’d left, close to tears, Beck had drained a beer before tossing the bottle against the wall and watching it shatter.

“Then what has your panties in such a twist?” Jase asked.

Beck would still rather cut off both his nuts than dump his problems in Jase’s lap. “I’m fine.”

Jase frowned at him.

“I’ll be fine,” he corrected.

Brook Lynn arrived and cuddled into the big guy’s side, smiling at Beck with saccharine sweetness. “Did I tell you I saw Harlow today? Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. She looks miserable.”

The words were a knife to the gut. “When did you become so vicious?” When did he?

He’d been an ass to Harlow today. And why? Because she hadn’t given him what he wanted?

Well, he hadn’t given her what she wanted, either, yet she’d remained civil. “I don’t want Harlow miserable.”

Brook Lynn studied him more intently than he liked. “So...you’d like to see her happy, settled?”

“Yes.” She deserved to be happy and settled, to have her dreams of having a husband and family come true. The permanence Beck couldn’t offer.

Can’t...or won’t?

His hand fisted.

“Good. I was testing you, and you just passed.” Brook Lynn beamed up at him. “I have the best idea. You and I are going to work together to find her the perfect man. We’ll start with your friends, of course, guys you trust who can give her what she needs.”

A growl rose from deep inside Beck’s chest, lingering in his throat before trying to push free of his mouth. Find Harlow another man? Not in this lifetime.

Brook Lynn nibbled on her bottom lip. “Are you upset? You look upset. You did say you wanted her happy, right? I didn’t misunderstand, did I?”

“You didn’t.” Each word felt as if it’d been yanked through a meat grinder.

“Good. She wants a nice, stable guy. Who doesn’t? She’s certain stability will make her happiest, and I agree. So think about those friends of yours, like I said, and figure out who will be a good match for her. We’ll discuss your choices tomorrow.” With that, Brook Lynn pulled Jase onto the dance floor.

Beck rubbed at his chest to ward off the sudden ache. A waiter passed with a tray of champagne glasses. He drained the one he had and replaced it with a new one, draining it, too.

From across the room, West spotted him and soon worked his way over, offering Beck another glass.

Beck grabbed it so fast the liquid swished over the rim. “Thanks,” he muttered, and the champagne went down the hatch in a single gulp. He tended to panic anytime his friend was in possession of alcohol. His gateway.

“Repay me by getting out there and doing your thing.”

“What’s my thing?” he asked, desperate to forget Brook Lynn’s “best” idea.

“What do you think? Dancing with the single mothers.”

In other words, flirting. For once, he wasn’t in the mood. “I’d need the entire bottle of alcohol for that.”

“Why? You’re usually the belle of the ball.”

“Not tonight.”

“Because you’re intimidated by me in my tux? Good to know. But one of the single moms brought her sister, and I’ve decided I want her. I need you to step up to the plate and take one for the team, intimidated or not.”

The words I want her weren’t shocking coming from West. Beck had heard something similar from the guy once a year for the past eight years. The very reason he could predict the outcome. West would win the girl—he always did. He would spend all kinds of time with her, dote on her and lavish her with gifts. Then he would dump her in exactly two months, for some made-up reason, and hate himself for months to come.

“Which one?” Beck asked. He wasn’t going to watch passively. Not this time. He could barely keep himself afloat right now and wasn’t willing to risk another spiral for West, another woman brokenhearted.

West pointed to a pretty thirtysomething with a short cap of blond hair and blue eyes. “Her.”

“Sorry, my man, but I saw her earlier. Now I call dibs.”

West almost looked relieved. “What about Harlow?”

The ache in his chest deepened. “What about her? We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Just friends.” Even if I miss her the way I’d miss a limb. “The blonde—”

“Don’t worry about it. She’s yours.” West patted his shoulder. “I won’t stand in your way.”