Good Enough (Meet Me in Montana 3)

“Do me a favor and escort him in. I assume he’s alone?” My skin tingled, knowing if he’d been with someone, Bennett would have already mentioned it. Which meant the conversation—or confrontation—was going to happen with just the two of us.

Good.

“Yep, he’s without the entourage. I’ll send him in.” Bennett chuckled, heading toward the door.

My eyes flashed to the monitors I had been ignoring, seeing him at the bar.

Hell.

If I thought sleeping with him was going to stop me from being attracted to him, I was sadly mistaken. I remembered exactly how that six-foot-three athletic body had felt against mine, with his gorgeous blue eyes looking down at me. They were so clear, almost translucent, but could fill to an inky black when I screamed out his name. It was like I could still feel his lips against my skin, still see my fingers raking through his sandy blond hair. And as much as I wanted to pretend it hadn’t been the best sex of my life, I couldn’t deny that it had been even better than my fantasy.

Clearly, the feeling hadn’t been mutual, his body language animated while he spoke to Raelle, one of my female bartenders who was never short of male attention. She was beautiful, dressed to maximize her tips, and able to make any cocktail no matter how complicated. It was no wonder he—like anyone else with a penis—wanted her attention. Wonder if he was planning on circling back to the bar after our little chat, picking her up after her shift was over and giving her a little taste of what I’d had the night before. After all, she didn’t have the complications I apparently did, so wouldn’t get the apology after.

Bennett approached him, Leighton’s hand rose in a wave as he said his goodbye—or see you later—to Raelle and followed Bennett back to my office. I didn’t move from my desk, watching their progression through the club on the colored screens until there was a brief knock at the door before it opened.

“Thanks, B, that will be all for now.” I pretended to be bored, my eyes moving slowly to where they were both standing in front of my desk. It was a big desk too, the wood imposing a five-foot distance between me and anyone I granted an audience. Total mind fuck, which was why I liked it so much, paying the ridiculous price for the custom piece out of my own pocket.

“Presley—”

I held my hand up, not allowing Leighton to say another word until Bennett closed the door behind him. “Well, well, well. Sneaking into Diablo, Leighton. Tell me, does your mother know?” My lips twitched into a grin, unable to help myself at landing the little jab.

His face morphed in confusion, probably wondering whether he should be offended or if the fact I was joking about it meant good things. Not that I was entirely sure what I was doing since my feelings for him weren’t clear either. It was hard to be angry at him, especially when he was standing in front of me and looking so goddamn delicious.

“I wasn’t sneaking in.” He tried to move closer, looking down at the desk separating us. If he wanted to close the distance, he was either going to have to vault over it or walk around, and I was curious which way he was going to go. Not going to lie, part of me wanted to see him make the leap, show off the athletic talents he’d so willingly treated me to the night before. “But your brother has friends keeping an eye on the place, and I didn’t want to deal with the questions it would invite if someone saw me.”

“Then why are you here at all?” I rolled my eyes, huffing out a breath. “If you’re concerned about me telling him, you could’ve saved yourself the trip. I don’t kiss and tell, Leighton.”

He shook his head, swallowing. “I don’t either. But obviously with you . . .”

“But with me, what? You’re worried I’m going to run to my brother crying that you fucked me and then left?” I scoffed, the laugh making its way up my throat. “Or maybe you think I’m going to get attached, fawn over you like a love-sick schoolgirl. You think I’m incapable of no-strings, Jared? You’re the one making a big deal out of it.”

Sure, I’d wanted more, but not in the way he probably thought.

Hell, I’d just gotten out of a relationship, there wasn’t a chance I was interested in another. But that didn’t mean a little fun with a guy I’d thought about naked more times than was probably reasonable, wasn’t an option either. And I could have totally kept it casual. Not that he’d given me the chance.

“You know it was different. Fuck’s sake, Presley, there’s a fucking lunatic after you for God knows what. Getting into your pants should have been the last thing on my mind. I’m not that asshole, Presley. I am not the guy who takes advantage of women, especially women I care about.” His hands curled into fists beside him, his muscles tight with agitation.

“Just stop right there!” Anger mixed with embarrassment bubbled in my gut, my skin probably flushing pink. “You want to pretend last night didn’t happen, that’s fine. But I am not some damsel in distress that didn’t know what the hell she was doing, Leighton. I invited you up to my apartment. I took you to my bed. And I was the one who took your cock—”

“Jesus, you trying to kill me here, Presley?” He cut me off, cursing under his breath. I was still mad, but liked how much I’d gotten to him. That his eyes had darkened, that his fists were twitching uncomfortably at his side and that his chest was moving faster.

Good.

“Tell me, are these thoughts of regret because I’m Justin’s sister, or Lewis turned out to be a psychopath?”

Not that either scenario would make me feel better, but only one would cease to be an issue. And neither was my fault.

He swallowed, waiting a minute like he was choosing his words. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Leighton, you know me. There’s more of a chance of me hurting you than the other way around. Find another excuse.”

“You shouldn’t . . . I mean, with everything happening. . . you should be—”

I didn’t let him finish, not willing to sit there and have him or anyone else tell me how I should be feeling. “Let’s get one thing straight, Leighton. You can feel however you want about last night. Whether it’s a regret or not, is totally up to you. But you don’t get to come in here and mansplain to me on how I should be feeling and what I should be doing. Not you, my brother, Lewis, or anyone else gets that. That’s my choice. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit in a corner and cower.” Even if I am scared, I finished in my head. “So, if that’s all you came to say, you can go. I’ll find someone else to scratch that itch.”

That did it.

His eyes widening as his nostrils flared, picking up the edge of the desk and shoving it to the side to clear a path. “Then let me do this instead.”