Stars Over Castle Hill (On Dublin Street 6.6)

“Right.” He seemed skeptical and even more amused.

I shifted uncomfortably under his intense regard, realizing I wanted this stranger to like me. I didn’t even know him but I wanted him to like me. Such a childish, silly thing to want. I hadn’t wanted anyone to like me since I was sixteen.

My entire body locked as I stared across the tiny distance between myself and Braden Carmichael. Call it intuition, call it whatever you liked, but I had a feeling that this man was going to be dangerous to my emotions.

I wanted out of the elevator.

As if he sensed my changed mood, he frowned. “Let’s keep talking. It’ll keep your mind off it.”

Realizing he thought my mood change was to do with panicking about our confinement, I nodded. I wasn’t sure what to say after our flirty banter.

“I got a call tonight from my kid,” Braden said, leaning his head against the elevator wall and staring wearily up at the ceiling. “Her name is Abby. And she had a nightmare and snuck her mum’s phone to call me. I don’t think there’s a worse feeling in the world than not being there when your daughter has had a nightmare.”

Disappointment plunged into my chest as soon as he mentioned “her mum.” Why the hell was he flirty bantering with me if he was married? I surreptitiously checked his ring finger.

Hmm.

No ring.

Maybe they were separated, I thought hopefully.

No.

Not hopefully!

You are not getting involved with this guy. End of.

Instead I thought about what he’d said about his daughter, how forlorn he sounded. “Why didn’t you leave the party?”

His eyes came to me.

Fuckity shit fuck.

I felt that whole oxygen-deprivation thing again because when he looked at me, it was like he was looking into my soul. Wow. Cheesy.

But freaking true.

And I didn’t want him there.

“Her mum, Kiersten, and I aren’t together. She took the phone off Abby and when I said I was coming to see her, she shut me down. I only get Abby every other week. This is not my week, she reminded me,” he said softly, bitterly.

I felt a welling of emotion in my chest for him. “I’m sorry.”

He gave me a small smile. “Me too. Do you have children?”

I shook my head.

“It’ll be the best thing that ever happens to you. Just make sure you do it with the right person.”

“Why didn’t you?” I said, surprising myself with the personal question. I didn’t usually ask personal questions because it invited people to return the inquisition.

Braden studied for me a moment, and I wondered if my question was too nosy. I was about to change the subject when he said, “She trapped me.”

“By getting pregnant?” I was aghast at the thought.

“By getting pregnant.”

“Why?”

He snorted. “For my money, obviously.”

This was another reason I didn’t tell anyone anything about myself. If a guy got wind of my inheritance, there was no way to tell if that was what was motivating him to pursue me.

“But I split up with her instead. Promised to take care of her and our daughter. Which I did. But it doesn’t seem to be enough. Kiersten … she has her problems. And every day I wake up not knowing what she’ll want to barter time with my daughter for.” He dragged his hand down his face, looking so exhausted, so sad, I found I wanted to reach over and comfort him.

Impulsively, I did, placing my hand lightly on his knee. “Hey, are you okay?”

He looked down where my hand was and then up to my face as I pulled away from him. His whole face softened. “I’ll be fine, Jocelyn. I’m merely tired. But thank you.”

I gave an awkward shrug, uncomfortable with my actions and feelings for this stranger.

“I don’t usually tell strange women my business,” he said, dry amusement in his voice.

I returned it with a wry smile. “Maybe it’s my open, fluffy personality.”

Braden grinned, and I felt like I’d achieved something.

Oh boy.

Definitely dangerous.

His eyes dropped to my breasts again and I swore I felt them swell under his stare.

Sexy bastard.

Still staring at my breasts, he murmured, “I can’t help but notice you’re wearing a T-shirt that says Club 39 on it.”

I glanced down at my shirt. The owner had us wearing tight-fitting black T-shirts with Club 39 scrawled across the left breast in white font. The women’s Ts had a deep V-neck and since I was blessed with a generous cup size and a small waist, I knew I made the shirt look good.

My tips told me that.

And both my male and female customers.

“Of course you noticed that,” I said. “You’ve been staring at my boobs since you got in here.”

Braden gave a bark of laughter and I grinned. “In my defense, they are difficult to ignore.”

“I’ll let you off the hook, then.”

His appreciative smile made me tingle all over. “Club 39?”

“I work there part-time.”

“I’ve actually never been in. The club scene lost its appeal for me a while ago.”

“It’s more of a bar really. And … don’t you own a nightclub?”

“I do. Fire on Victoria Street. But my manager Isla runs the place for me.”

“I can’t even imagine what it’s like having all those businesses to take care of. Do you enjoy all that responsibility?”

“Yes. I have a head for it. And achievement is a small kind of contentment.”

“You must have started young.”

“My father was a businessman. When I was in my twenties, he passed away and I inherited what he had and built on it.”

His twenties? “I’m sorry about your dad. But wow about the businesses. By the time you hit thirty, you’d already made a success of yourself. That’s impressive.”

He seemed to sense what I was saying. “As will you, I’m sure.”

I gave a huff of laughter. “Too late for that I’m afraid.” Under his interested, questioning gaze, I found myself wanting to tell someone how I was feeling. I kept everything bottled up all the time. For once, with this man who had shared a little of himself with me, I wanted to share my fears.

And maybe it was safe to with Braden.

We were stuck in an elevator together, but afterwards I probably would never see him again, so would it matter if, for a second, I let myself be vulnerable with him?

“I turned thirty at midnight.”

His eyes warmed. “Happy birthday, Jocelyn.”

“Thank you. And it’s Joss,” I reminded him.

He smiled unrepentantly.

I rolled my eyes at his boyishness and looked up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze as I confessed, “I wasn’t here meeting a friend.”

“Oh?”

“No. I was working tonight and I was feeling … I was feeling alone,” I whispered, scared to admit it out loud. “I’ve never felt scared to be alone, not until recently. It feels like time has slipped away, you know.” I forced myself to meet his gaze and I found only understanding.

“Believe it or not, I felt the same way when I turned thirty. Actually, it was when I was turning thirty-one.”

“With all you’ve achieved?”

He nodded. “There was still always something missing. Still is. It felt like … it felt like I’d reached thirty-one and I was supposed to have found something by then. I don’t know what. I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Yes.” I nodded, understanding perfectly. “I … my writing career maybe … All I know is I never imagined feeling this way and I’m not sure I even understand. For God’s sake, a few years ago I would

’ve died at the thought of telling a complete stranger any of this. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“And tonight? Here?”

“Oh. Yeah,” I gave him a sad, slightly embarrassed smile, “a customer flirted with me at the bar, and I didn’t … I thought I didn’t want to be alone tonight so I arranged to come to his hotel room.”

The air in the elevator thickened with Braden’s reaction. He didn’t say anything but his eyes sharpened and his body seemed to tense.

“I chickened out. I was standing outside his room, trying to make myself knock on his door, and I couldn’t. And then I ended up in here with you.”

His gaze softened, the air between us easier.

Was he … was he bothered by the idea of me being with another man?

How could he be?

“Good,” he said, his gaze drifting down my body again and back up. “You deserve better than a quick, hard fuck.”

Then why did I get the impression he wanted to push me onto the elevator floor and have his wicked way with me? “Oh? You wouldn’t want that from me?” I was skeptical.

Braden’s eyes narrowed at my tone. “If we fuck, it will be hard, but it will definitely not be quick.”

The feeling in my lower belly was like the kind of whooshing dip and flip you get on a roller coaster, and I felt the answering wet between my legs.