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Beguiling Briley Page 6
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Now, five days later, he sat at a corner table of the club listening to Ethan and Brock give him advice to win Briley.
“I’m telling you, man, you’ve got to sweep her off her feet. Show her you mean business. By that I mean a really kick ass ring,” Ethan advised before crunching happily on a loaded nacho chip.
“I tried that, remember? Then Briley tried to stab me.” He smiled at the memory. Love wasn’t for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.
“How did you get Emma?” The question was directed at the man sitting across from him.
Brock slowly sipped his beer. Instinctively, Carter knew this was a man he’d want on his side if things started going wrong. It wasn’t just the scar crossing his lips, though its origin didn’t bear thinking about. Something in the older man’s manner made Carter want to sit up straighter and smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt. Weird shit.
“I kidnapped her.”
Carter’s head swivelled between the two men. “Are you serious?”
“Yep.”
“Care to elaborate a little here.” Damn, if kidnapping didn’t sound like a great plan to him. The logistics would be a nightmare though.
Brock shrugged his massive shoulders. “Em wouldn’t listen me, kind of like Briley. I didn’t feel like waiting around until she got over her mad. Your girl,” he nodded to Carter, “unlocked Emma’s door, packed a bag and wished us well. The rest I’ll keep to myself.”
Ethan moaned. “Please do and tell Emma she might try keeping a few details to herself. I have to hear it every night from Livia. Man, I like you and all, but I so don’t want to know your bedroom behaviour. I need to douse my ears with bleach as it is.”
The love of Emma Flintock’s life didn’t look concerned. He merely gave the other two men a smug smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Carter sighed and slouched back in his seat. “Great, now that you’re Harry and Ron again, can we please get back to our problem?”
Confused looks crossed the other men’s faces.
“Who’s Harry and Ron?” Brock asked.
Carter gave up and settled for banging his head on the table. The results were about the same as talking with Ethan and Brock. Pain and no closer to winning Briley’s heart.
Chapter Seven
“I’m thinking about hosting a charity event?” Olivia announced out of the blue during the friends’ regular Saturday morning pedicure ritual.
“Why?”
“Because, Recee, some of us like to give back to the community without it being court mandated.”
“Hey, I donate to causes,” Recee protested without much energy or interest.
Briley, who shared Recee’s accountant, laughed from her whirlpool chair. “The National Rifle Association doesn’t count. Nor does the American Blade Throwers Association. Think of something with less violence, like puppies or kids.”
“Hey, I’ve seen grown men crumble after a few hours with kids. It ain’t pretty, sister, and puppies grow up to be dogs. Dogs that can maul and mutilate a person in under sixty seconds.”
“You are the anti Mary Poppins, aren’t you?” Briley muttered.
“Hey, it’s not my fault the world is a dangerous place.” Recee looked at her magenta-coloured toes and nodded. “I just make the best out of a bad situation. Like you need to with this Carter person.”
Hearing his name had Briley’s pulse racing. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
Emma gently cleared her throat. “He went for beers with Brock and Ethan last night.”
Briley’s leg jerked up at the news, smearing her shiny red toe polish. “Oh shit, that can’t be good.”
Trinity, already finished with her toes and nails, rolled across the floor of the salon on a small wheeled chair. “I’d say it’s all good, if he can deliver. If you know what I mean.” To emphasis the point, Trinity waggled her light blonde eyebrows.
Emma threw an emery board at their friend. “It’s not all about sex, you perv.”
The rest of them laughed. “Oh please, Em.” Olivia protested. “You jump on Brock more than a kid with a brand new trampoline.”
Everyone laughed, even the nail techs, while Emma’s pale face turned a fiery red. “I’ll get you back for that one, Olivia.”
“Honey,” she said patting her friend’s hand, “you already have. Ethan’s ready to bleach his ears if I spill one more detail of your and Brock’s sex life with him.”
“Can’t live up to the ole Brock-a-nator?” Trinity quipped as she zipped along the on her chair.
“Ethan does just fine. Don’t worry about him.” Settling back her chair, Olivia lifted her right foot up to admire the deep pink colour covering her toes.
“Good, delighted to know Ethan’s a god in the sack. Now, can we please get back to Briley and the hot nerd,” Trinity asked.
Briley pulled her foot away from paintbrush wielding nail tech. “Carter’s not a nerd, Recee. Besides,” she settled herself deeper into the soothing massage chair, “there is no Carter and me.”
“The man wanted to take you ring shopping for heaven’s sake, Bri. I think that’s a hint he wants more than your curvy bod.” Trinity slammed to a jarring stop at the base of Bri’s chair. “What’s wrong with you? We know he doesn’t suck in bed. The multiple O comment kind of cinched it.”
“I don’t want to get married. I think he may have been joking anyway. What man goes out looking for engagement rings after only knowing a woman for a week? It screams psycho stalker,” she defended herself.
While Carter was great in bed, better than any of her previous lovers, and she enjoyed talking to him, fear kept her heart firmly in place. Geeky though he may be, Carter was smart enough to know they’d never make it.
He was cute, but so much more. When you got to know him, he was handsome and incredibly buff and so smart he made her brain hurt. Cute was just a first glance impression. Something about the man made Briley want to dig deeper to find those other more complicated qualities.
But what was he doing chasing after her? Briley wasn’t vain, but she knew her looks were above average, but so was her waistline. Did Carter honestly see her figure? Did he understand she wasn’t and never would a slinky, no curves female? If she gave in to him, what would happen in five or ten years when the newness of her rounded tummy and not so sleek thighs gave way to impatience or diet hints?
“It’s not worth it,” she mumbled. “I’m saving us both from a lot of future heartache.”
“Briley Evans, I never thought I’d live to see the day you ran from a challenge.” Recee’s harsh tone broke through her internal black comedy.
She blinked her eyes open and stared. All four of her friends were looking at her with varying degrees of horror. “What?” she asked, looking around. “What did I do?”
“I’ll tell you what you did.” Trinity scooted even closer to the side of Briley’s massive massage chair. “You are giving up before you even start.”
“Carter’s good enough to fuck, but not to bring out to dinner?” This from an angry sounding Recee. Angry Recee never equalled good. Generally, it meant someone had a trip to the E.R. in their future.
“Why are the four of you giving me such a hard time about this? I expected better from my friends.” Hurt crawled its way up her throat to sting her eyes with unshed tears. She’d expected Olivia and Emma to gush and blubber over Carter and his hopeless courtship, but the other two? Nope, she’d never seen this coming. Later, she’d have to ask what changed Trinity and Recee’s minds, but not right now. It would prolong a discussion she already wanted over.
“Oh, baby, it’s because we’re your friends that we’re saying this. Carter is a special man. When he looks at you, there’s no one else in the world. We want the best for you, and to us, he’s it.” Olivia leant over to give her a one-armed hug.
She sniffed back a few tears, not wanting to cry in front of the entire staff of Tic Tac Toe Spa. “Enough about my imaginary relationship with Carter. Let’s
talk about Olivia’s charity fundraiser.”
Four heads nodded, but Briley heard Recee’s mumbling about threatening the wrong person with her knife.
“What about one of those bachelor auctions?” Emma suggested getting up from her chair and gathering her things. “Those always make a ton of money and it would be good publicity for the Club. I can donate some signed books or donate editing work.”
“Hey, I know some great guys.” Trinity gave up her play chair with a sniff of disappointment to the employee glaring daggers at her. “I’m sure they’d love to help a charity and get to meet women at the same time. I’ll donate a naughty nightie ensemble for each winner.”
“I can arrange two first class tickets to Mexico. If you give me enough time, I’m sure I can talk the resort down there into offering up a weekend getaway for free.” The more Briley thought about it, the better this charity idea sounded. Putting it together would fill up her nights so she’d be too busy to think about Carter and his crazy plan for their future.
“And I suppose you’ll want me to create a one of a kind masterpiece and let the masses fight like wild beasts over it.” Recee buffed her nails on her jeans, looking entirely too put out for any of her friends to take seriously.
“Rec, you know anything you make will bring in thousands of dollars. Not to mention classing up the joint,” Olivia joked.
“Fine, fine, fine. Far be it from me to stand in the way of a new chair for the opera house or whatever it is we’re raising money for.” She paused for a moment then looked at Olivia. “What are we this money for?”
Olivia looked at the rest of the group and Briley knew without a shred of doubt what her friend was thinking. She nodded as did the other two.
“All the money raised the night of the auction will go to raising bulimia awareness in kids.”
Recee jerked her head in a nod, stood, threw her purse over her shoulder and went to take a seat by the door to wait for the others. Her face turned to the wall so no one could see her expression.
“I don’t know if I just did a good thing or a bad thing.” Olivia sighed and reached for her own purse and bottle of water.
Done with her polish repair, Briley swivelled out of her chair and patted Olivia’s back. “You did good, hon. Recee’s never gotten over Kiki’s death, but I think raising the awareness will help her fight back.”
“I don’t think you ever get over something like that,” Emma agreed softly. “I mean who the hell thinks a thirteen-year old will purge enough to kill themselves.”
“And that’s why we’re doing this. More people need to know,” Trinity stated then went to the front counter to pay.
Briley pulled away from her two friends and went to comfort her friend in pain. “Come on, Recee, I’ll race you to the car. Loser buys the winner’s drinks and desert.”
Recee managed a half smile. “You’re on.”
“Great, and if you’re really good at lunch, I’ll let you play with your knife to scare the waiters.”
Navy blue eyes narrowed. “You said I couldn’t do that anymore after I got us thrown out of the Symphony dinner and dance.”
The five of them laughed and walked out the door into the chilly afternoon.
“Nah, I only said that so they wouldn’t arrest us,” Briley confessed, then broke away to dash to the car, screaming, “I won, I won! Shotgun losers.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m raising friends or kids?” Olivia muttered as the group reached the car.
“I think we’re more like friendly kids or kids friendly, except for Recee, of course,” Trinity teased, sliding into the back of Olivia’s big black SUV.
“I don’t hate kids,” Recess protested while buckling up.
“I know you don’t hate them, but you told me many times that you can’t see the use in having them except for the tax credit,” Briley told her over her shoulder.
“I don’t know why I bother with you bitches,” Recee grumbled and did her best to look irritated, but her blue eyes sparked with humour.
“Cause no one else will have us,” Trinity chirped and patted Recee’s hand. “You either for that matter.”
“Guess that says it all.”
Chapter Eight
At seven o’clock that night, Carter heard the squeal of tires outside his door. The loud laughter of several women piqued his interest. As he left his home office, the doorbell sounded and his heart leapt.
Had Briley finally come to her senses? Rushing through the house, Carter tripped on a shoe, stubbed his toe on the baseboard and cracked his knee against the hall table. None of the pain registered as his pulse raced in time with the pounding on his front door.
Faster than he thought possible, Carter flipped the locks and yanked open the door. His mouth dropped open as stared wide eyed in shock.
“Special delivery for Carter Moore.” A sunshine blonde with grass green eyes—he remembered someone called her Trinity—chirped on his doorstep while holding a smiling Briley upright with one arm. “We asked her where she wanted to go and this is the address she gave us.”
“Here?” Carter pushed a hand through his hair, confused and unsure what to do.
“Yep, she’s yours.” Trinity pushed the grinning Briley in his arms. “Now take good care of her. We want her back in mostly the same condition we gave her to you.”
Olivia stood beside the happy blonde. “She’s not drunk,” she tried to explain, but was cut off.
“Briley’s the cheapest drunk you’ll ever meet.” An exotic-looking, dark-haired woman spoke up from behind the pair. Too late he remembered her name.
“You’re the one with the knife.” He clasped Briley closer to his chest. “You don’t feel the urge to kill me again…do you?”
Recee winked. “Nope, I’m good. We’d better get going. Brock’s going to be pissed enough that Emma’s drunk. No need to make it worse if she passes out.”
“Uh huh, too late,” Olivia said, misery coated her every word.
They all turned to look at the SUV running in front of Carter’s house. In the backseat, looking like a dishevelled angel, Emma lay sound asleep across the leather seats. One hand tucked beneath her cheek while the other slid carelessly to the floor.
“We are so going to catch hell for this,” Trinity warned the others as they backed away.
Olivia shook her head as she crossed the front of the vehicle. “No, we won’t. We’ll just blame Recee. Brock’s still scared of her.”
“Good point,” Trinity agreed
“Hey,” Recee protested, climbing into the back with the now snoring Emma. “Why am I always the fall girl in these situations?”
“Can we all say anger management, boys and girls?” Trinity sang in a syrupy sweet voice and clapped her hands. “Oh very good I knew you could do it.”
“Hey, I almost passed the last time,” Recee objected, shoving Emma over to the opposite side of the car.
“Fine.” Olivia waved her hand in the air. “Briley made us do it,” she said firmly just as the doors shut.
Carter watched the three women high five and wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
When he looked down to the sorceress in his arms, he knew. Loving Briley was worth putting up with anything, even her cooky, slightly sanity challenged friends.
“Come on, baby, let’s put you to bed.” With a last look at Olivia’s fading taillights, Carter swung his lover into his arms, pushed the door closed and swept up the stairs.
“Carter, is that really you?” Her voice came out sounding all sexy and sleepy, making certain parts of his body wide awake and ready to play.
He leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Shhh, Bri, let’s get you to bed.”
“Hmmm, good ‘cause that’s exactly where I want to be. In bed with you in me.”
Carter thanked his lucky stars they’d reached the top of the stairs as she made that announcement. Forcing his feet to move, he made it to his bed in record time.
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��Being a good guy sucks,” he mumbled. He took her feet into his lap to massage them and was caught off guard, seduced by pink toenails and a gold toe ring. Damn. Feet were not supposed to be sexy, and his reaction only got worse as he massaged them, because she moaned, wiggled and groaned in pure sensual pleasure. She even purred a couple of times from deep in her throat, a sound that sent electricity straight to his desperate cock. Carter remembered her making those sounds when he’d been deep inside her and couldn’t wait to do it all over again.
“I’m in heaven. You’re better than Pippy,” she said, her eyes still closed in rapture.
“Who’s Pippy?” In heaven himself, or more like self-inflicted hell, Carter didn’t think he’d be moving anytime soon, not with the tent sticking up from his sweats. If he hadn’t known it before, he knew now that having Briley around twenty-four-seven would make for the kind of life he’d only dreamt of.
“The girl who does my pedicures every Saturday. I never thought I’d find hands better than hers. You ever think of leaving the mundane work of computers behind for the high class world of a pedicure technician. I’d give you hellacious tips.”
Carter smiled at her offer. “If my business every goes belly up, I’ll keep the job in mind.”
A soft Mona Lisa smile curved her lips. “You do that, but in the meantime, why don’t I give you a preview of the kind of tips I’m talking about?”
Before he could object—like he’d even thought about objecting—Briley reversed their positions. He lay flat on the bed while she straddled his waist. Within seconds, his sweats were gone and his cock was engulfed in a fiery haven of perfection.
Her hands stroked his shaft, her fingers exploring the heavy veins, the steel hard heat as Carter felt a whimper of desperate need build in his throat.
She pulled back from him, her eyes rising to his. He stared down at her, his gaze heavy as he stared at her swollen lips.