Real Men Will (Donovan Brothers Brewery 3)

He nodded, and Beth met his gaze again, her dark brown eyes deep with sorrow. “You’ve ruined it.”

“I know.” He did. It had been a perfect memory. A perfect moment in his life. Her body and her mouth and her trembling hands. And now it was something sordid.

Beth stood a little straighter and seemed to reset herself. The tears stopped and her chin rose in disdain as she stepped forward and brushed past him. “I just wanted you to know that. That you ruined it. Don’t ever call me. Don’t get in touch. But I guess that was your plan from the start, right?”

She was right, so he didn’t dare touch her arm to stop her. He didn’t even apologize again. He just let her slam his office door and disappear from his life as quickly as she’d reappeared.

Eric collapsed into a chair, let his head fall into his hands and called himself every name in the book. And yet there was still that small, stony part of him that didn’t regret what he’d done. Not at all. It was that same part that had always been selfish, but lately it seemed to be growing.

CHAPTER THREE

AS SOON AS SHE’D SLAMMED the door behind her, Beth lost her ability to hold it together. She couldn’t draw enough air. She was breathing too hard, too fast, and she worried she might pass out at any moment. That would be the only thing that could make this unbearable situation worse: being found passed out in the back hallway of the brewery as if she were some delicate flower of womanhood, overcome with sexual shock.

So Beth put her hand to the wall and made herself breathe slowly in and slowly out. She bowed her head for one moment, keeping an ear out for the sound of Jamie’s—Eric’s—door opening behind her.

But he didn’t follow her, and Beth calmed down, and when she opened her eyes she was steady enough to walk. There were two men on the far side of the kitchen, and they watched her as if they feared she might snap at them like a mad dog. She ignored them, and was reaching for the double doors when they swung inward.

She stopped short, clasping her hands to her chest. It was him. The man who was really named Jamie. And it was all so obvious in that moment. This man was the Jamie Donovan she’d heard rumors about. He was handsome and roguish-looking, and she could perfectly picture him wearing a kilt and flirting as he delivered beers to customers. Eric, on the other hand, looked like a man who never bothered with flirting. If he wanted you, he wanted you; it was as simple as that. It certainly had been the night they’d met in his room.

“Hey,” the real Jamie said, his eyes looking down the hall for a moment before refocusing on her. “Is everything okay?”

She almost laughed. Sure, everything was just great. Except that she’d been betrayed and used and made a fool of. Her cheeks warmed. “I just want to go,” she said, hugging her arms to her chest.

“Oh. Sure. I’m just sorry about the…” His eyes darted toward the offices again. “Confusion,” he finished weakly.

“Confusion. Right.” She wanted to smile, to pretend it was no big deal, but instead she found herself blinking back tears. “Sorry I yelled at you earlier,” she said quickly. “I was a little surprised.”

She brushed past him and started to push through the doors, but he turned and held out a hand to stop her. “Do you want to go through the back?”

She froze. At this point, she could only pray she didn’t know any of the customers who’d so eagerly watched the argument. What if she walked toward the front doors and a friend stopped her for more details? “Thank you. The back door would be perfect.”

He walked her to a steel door set into the far wall, but when he opened it to let her out, he kept walking with her. She hid her look of irritation, and simply stared straight ahead. “You don’t need to keep me company.”

“I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” she said, but it was a moot point now. They were already in the parking lot. He looked like he wanted to say more, but there was nothing else she wanted to hear. She never wanted to see any of these people again.

She beeped open the door on her car. “Thank you,” she said, then slipped inside. She started the car immediately, but when he simply stood there, she gave an impatient wave.

By the time he walked away, it was all beginning to sink in.

How had she let this happen to herself? It was as if she’d been the butt of some fraternity-boy joke. I’ll pretend to be my brother to get her into bed.

She meant to pull the car out right away, but her face was so hot she had to press her cool fingers to her cheeks. Her stomach rolled with sickness. She’d been proud of her fling before this. It had been exactly the sort of brave and selfish pleasure she’d wanted for years.

And now it was nothing. Less than nothing. It was a scar on her pride. It was humiliation. Why had he done that to her?

“It doesn’t matter,” Beth told herself. “It doesn’t.”

She didn’t believe it, but somehow the words helped her calm down. Or just the sound of her own voice, solid and strong.

Whether it mattered or not, it was done. And she’d never see Eric or Jamie Donovan again, thank God.

ERIC HEARD HIS BROTHER’S footsteps long before Jamie got to his office. And that said a lot about Jamie’s mood; these floors were solid concrete.

Pushing to his feet, Eric told himself he was ready for this, but he still ground his teeth together when the door flew open and banged a tall filing cabinet. “What the fuck?” Jamie ground out.

“I know. It looks bad.”