Bad Boys Do (Donovan Brothers Brewery 2)

“What doesn’t?”

“This. You can talk to me about your life. We can discuss things that have nothing to do with the brewery or sex.”

“I know that. It’s just that…our arrangement—”

“Arrangement?”

“You know.” Her face burned. She didn’t want to say aloud that he was giving her sex in exchange for help with the brewery.

“Olivia, I know you’re buttoned up and business-oriented, but I’m not. This isn’t an arrangement.”

“You said you’d help me with—”

“I meant as friends or lovers or whatever you want to call it.”

“It’s semantics, Jamie. I’m not saying you don’t like me at all, but I’m not the kind of woman you’d normally date.”

“What the hell do you know about who I normally date?”

“Oh, come on. How many thirty-five-year-old straitlaced divorcées have you dated? You’re a twentysomething bartender. Women travel from all over town just to pay for the chance to flirt with you. Hot women. College girls. Women with breasts who wear low-cut jeans and go skinny-dipping every week.” She glanced down the walk to be sure no one was near and lowered her voice. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

She wasn’t wrong, she knew that, but Jamie looked furious. His mouth was so flat and hard that it looked like it had never cracked a smile, much less a grin. His jaw jumped in a tense rhythm. And his eyes…all the warmth had left them, and the green now looked like pine in the dead of winter.

Olivia sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that as an insult.”

“You didn’t mean it as an insult? What was it? A compliment?”

“Neither. It’s just…true.”

“That I’m an immature, womanizing, beer-slinging kid who sleeps with any drunk college girl who flashes her cleavage at me?”

“That is not what I said.”

“What about the part where I agreed to sleep with you if you pay me in restaurant-planning help? Is that what’s true?”

She reached toward him. “Jamie—” He started to pull away. A shriek of laughter stopped her movement, and Olivia stepped back as a herd of teenagers tumbled past them. Jamie glared at the cement beneath his feet while Olivia just stood there helplessly, wondering why it had seemed like a good idea to have this conversation. And now she could feel that current growing stronger, pulling her away from him, back to what she’d been before. She’d ruined it.

The last teenager finally sprinted past, trying to catch up to the others.

Olivia’s heart had dropped and pressed all the air from her chest, but Jamie’s whole body seemed to expand when he breathed in. After a few moments, he blew all the air out on a slow sigh. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up.”

“I didn’t mean that,” she whispered, “not that way.” She couldn’t believe how quickly he’d calmed down. He looked almost like the old Jamie now, though his mouth was still solemn. Still, all the tension had vanished from his jaw, and his eyes shifted from cold to sad.

“It’s no big deal. I’m used to it. Hell, I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. And I only meant that I’m not an ideal date for you. For anyone. And that’s okay. I don’t need to be that.”

“How about you let me decide who’s ideal?”

She almost agreed. That would end the argument. He’d tell her that she was exactly who he wanted to date. She’d be reassured. She’d feel attractive and wanted and flattered. But it wouldn’t be true. She didn’t want to be told any more lies. So instead of agreeing, she shook her head. “I like that you’re sweet and flirtatious and charming. I love it. Everyone does. But I don’t want you to charm me by pretending there’s more to this than there is.”

Jamie threw his hands up in exasperation. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“No. You’ve been great. You’re always great. That’s why I can’t let my guard down.”

He dropped his hands. His frown softened. “Hey,” he said, “you don’t have to have your guard up with me.”

“Oh, Jamie. You are so wrong about that.”