Breaking Up with Barrett: The English Brothers #1 (The Blueberry Lane Series - The English Brothers) (11 page)

BOOK: Breaking Up with Barrett: The English Brothers #1 (The Blueberry Lane Series - The English Brothers)
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Emily saw it in his eyes, the intense way he watched her without fighting what was happening between them. He loved her. She was sure of it.

She withdrew her hand from his face, pillowing them both under her head as she stared at him, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

He sort of mentally shrugged. “Not much else to say.”

“There is more. I know it. I can feel it.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “Doing a deal usually feels good. Really good. Like skiing down a mountain, or jumping from a plane, or great sex. It’s exciting. It’s a rush. But, this doesn’t feel exhilarating… and I can’t put my finger on why.”

Great sex
. Huh. Emily got stuck as the words circled around in her brain. Great sex. Hm. How many people had Barrett enjoyed great sex with? How great was the great sex he’d experienced? How would the sex they had compare to the great sex he’d had with other people? Would it even be great at all?

With four years spent in undergraduate school, another three totally focused on her masters, and now another deeply entrenched in doctoral studies, there hadn’t been much time for boyfriends. It’s not that Emily wanted to be a twenty-four-year-old virgin, and she certainly wasn’t opposed to sex or afraid of it, but she’d never quite gotten around to… well,
having
it. She’d always
meant
to give it a try—find someone suitable, date for a while, fall in love, and have the “great sex” moment. It just hadn’t happened… yet. Furthermore, she’d never allowed her sexual status, or lack thereof, she thought dryly, define who she was. No, she hadn’t had sex yet. Yes, she liked lemon yogurt. They were parts of who she was, neither sum nor total.

But, now, hearing Barrett glibly mention “great sex” as a matter of course, she couldn’t help but wonder… would she disappoint him? Would he disappoint her? Would it bother him that she’d read a lot of books, and even watched a couple of dirty videos, but she hadn’t actually done the deed? Great sex probably came from having a really experienced partner, huh? And she wasn’t. She was—

“Emily?” he asked, and she suspected it was the second time he’d said her name.

“Mm-hm?”

“Are you still listening?”

“Of course.”

“So, I’m not feeling that rush this time… I mean—”

“Um,” she interrupted. “How great?”

“What?”

“The, um, the great sex you mentioned. How great?”

His mouth dropped open and he stared at her, a smile tilting his lips up in surprise.

“You said… ‘Like skiing down a mountain, or jumping from a plane, or great sex.’ And I was just wondering, um, how
great
is great?”

If possible, his eyes opened wider.

She scrunched up her nose and winced. She was making herself look like a complete idiot. Her neck flushed hot, and she knew she was turning pink.

“Uh, just forget I asked.”

“I can’t really just forget that, Emily.”

“Please try.”

“Emily.” He chuckled, reaching for her face and nudging it to look at him. “What’s going on? Do you really want me to… I mean, do you want details or—?”

“No! No. It doesn’t matter. Tell me more about the deal… you’re not getting a rush…” she prompted.

His eyebrows furrowed. “You know, I’m not Alex. It’s not like I’ve been a total manwhore, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Her eyes cut to his with precision, and she knew he could see the hurt behind them. Manwhore or not, she didn’t want to know how many women Barrett had been with. She couldn’t bear it. It hurt her to even consider it.

“I’m not implying anything. Forget it. Please, Barrett.”

“I mean it’s not like either of us are virgins.”

She cleared her throat and cast her eyes down, squeaking out an awkward, “Mm-hm.”

She felt him staring at her, searching her face. When she couldn’t bear it anymore, she flicked her eyes up and caught his smile fading like he was looking at something unbelievable or impossible. Her whole body tingled with the uncomfortable feeling of being found out. She’d never felt so transparent.

“Emily,” he said slowly, almost reverently. “That’s not possible.”

She gulped softly, wetting her lips with her tongue, as she looked down again.

It was nothing to be ashamed of, she reminded herself. It’s not like she hadn’t dated men. She had. Quite a lot, in fact. She’d just never really been in love enough with any one of them to consider sleeping with them. It wasn’t a big deal. Or it certainly hadn’t felt like a big deal to her…until now.

She lifted her chin and met his eyes. “It’s not a big deal to me.”

His face froze, and she couldn’t read his expression, but it wasn’t comfortable or even remotely reassuring. It waffled between disbelief and shock, and she couldn’t handle it much longer. For all of the comfort that had built up between them over the last week, over the last few months of “fake dating,” over a lifetime of watching one another from across the wide lawns at Haverford Park, she’d never felt further from Barrett than she did right this minute. And it felt awful.

“It’s a very big deal,” he finally murmured. “You’ve never …?”

She shook her head.

He stared at her for one more tense moment, then rolled over onto his back, running his hands through his hair.

***

Emily was a virgin.

The idea was so hot and yet so terrifying, he didn’t even know what to do with himself. The possibility that he could want her for his whole life, and end up being the first man to ever have her, humbled him to the point of speechlessness, and Barrett was not a man flummoxed by much.

He never would have guessed. From the way they’d made out in the back of the limo and at her house, and on the tennis courts—
Christ!
—there’s no way he would have ever known. Her body was made for touching, made for loving, her responsiveness so sharp, it made him harden just remembering. If he wanted her badly five minutes ago, his lust for her now had tripled.

He tried to breathe normally, but her soft, supple, never-invaded body was warm under the sheets beside him, and he couldn’t think about anything else but how much he wanted to be her first.

“Um, well, maybe it’s time for sleep…”

Barrett heard the tremor in his voice, and leaned on his elbow to face her. Her face was uncertain and worried. She shrugged lightly, her eyes glistening as she stared at the ceiling.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on here?” he asked gently.

She dragged a knuckle over one brimming eye. “I’m weird, I know. It just never happened. I mean, I just … I never met the guy I wanted to—”

“Emily, stop. Wait. Stop,” he whispered again, placing his hand on the covers over her stomach, right below her breasts. “Do you think I’m upset about this?”

“You seem upset. You seem freaked out.”

He reached up with both hands to cup her cheeks, cradling her face, trying not to breathe too hard, but failing, because she was that precious to him, that perfect.

“I’m not freaked out, baby. I’m in awe.”

***

As the words left his lips, his face softened to a look so tender and yet so passionate, so fiercely possessive, it took her breath away.

“You are?”

“I am.”

“You’re not weirded out?”

He shook his head, still staring at her with that same loving look that was shattering every barrier left between them.

Emily’s heart, which had been thumping in embarrassment and isolation a moment before, picked up pace as his thumb swiped gently over her cheek to whisk away one, last errant tear.

“Sunday,” she said softly, staring at his beautiful face, just inches away from hers. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, lowering his elbow to rest his cheek on the pillow beside her, draping his arm back across her and pulling her as close as possible.

“Good night, Barrett English,” she whispered, her heart too full for any more talking, any more revelations, any more feelings or discoveries.

“Good night, Emily Edwards,” he whispered back, as if he knew it was time to stop talking, to let everything light and heavy between them settle into their hearts and minds as they dreamed.

He pulled her face to his until their foreheads touched, then they closed their eyes, and slept.

 
 
 
CHAPTER 11

 

The first thing Barrett saw when he woke up was Emily, her face mere inches from his, her breath surprisingly sweet for morning, her chest rising and falling in deep sleep. His arm lay heavy and limp over her hip, caught in covers, curled under her. Sun filtered into their room, highlighting her light hair like a halo and bathing her pale skin in warmth. She was an angel, a vision, and she was lying next to him. The revelations about her sexuality aside, the words that meant the most to him last night were these:
I know what I want when this weekend is over.

Emily Edwards wanted him.

For as much as Barrett ruled a board room like a kingdom, buying and selling billion dollar companies with the flick of his wrist or a nod of his head, women had never actually been his forte. He’d never wanted for female companionship, of course, but his serious romantic relationships could be counted on one hand. They were always complicated by the image of a much younger woman lingering in the back of his mind.

He rolled to his back, then swung his legs over the bed. He’d slept in his dress shirt and suit pants, not daring to move after pulling her head to his and hearing her soft, deep breathing soon after. It would have taken a natural disaster for him to budge.

As much as he’d like to stare at Emily all morning, the reality was that he had a deal to close and the best way to clear his head would be to take a morning run. He rummaged through his suitcase quietly, changed into navy shorts and a long-sleeved running shirt, pulling on his shoes and socks in the chair by the fireplace.

He looked back over at Sleeping Beauty, and he didn’t want to wake her, but he didn’t want to leave her either. He made his way softly to her side of the bed and squatted down until his nose was level with hers.

“Em,” he whispered. “”Emmy Faith.”

She inhaled deeply, her eyes still closed and her voice low and sleepy. “Barrett?”

“I’m going for a run.”

“Hmm,” she murmured.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, which parted softly as a low, breathy moan escaped her throat. “Barrett.”

“I’ll be back,” he whispered, nuzzling her nose before drawing back and standing up.

Leaving her was hell.

Thank God tomorrow was Sunday.

***

“So?” demanded Valeria. “More details about Operation Bundle, please!”

Emily tilted her head and wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could brush her teeth.

“I can’ lie. I’s hard.”

“Are you brushing your teeth while we’re on the phone? You’re disgusting, Emily.”

Emily spat with gusto, then grinned at her reflection.

“You love me. You know it.”

“I don’t think I’m the only one.”

“Val! He hasn’t come remotely close to sharing that feeling.”

“Who are you kidding? Recounting your childhood and adolescence like that? Falling asleep with his forehead pressed against yours, fully dressed? He’s not just interested in burning a hole in your panties. He likes you. He
really
likes you.”

“I
really
like him,” said Emily, pulling her skinny jeans and cable knit sweater out of her suitcase. On today’s agenda? A yacht ride with lunch. And though it was sunny, it would also be a high of fifty-eight degrees on the water. Chilly.

“Hey Em, did you tell him about your
special
status?”

“God, you make me sound like I belong in quarantine.”

“No, no,” said Valeria lightly. “I just, you know, I care about you.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” insisted Emily. She was getting sick of saying it. “I drink Earl Grey. My hair’s blonde. I haven’t had sex yet. I’m a doctoral student. It’s no more or less important than any other fact about my life.”

“You really believe that?” asked Valeria gently.

“I
really
believe that, and I refuse to make it a bigger deal out of it. I’m not scared. I’m not nervous. I’m twenty-four years old, and I have deep feelings for Barrett. If anything, I’m just plain ready. So, enough!”

“Okay, okay!” said Valeria, washing her hands of that part of the conversation. “So where’s Prince Charming now?”

“No idea. I woke up and he was gone. His suitcase is still here, though. He didn’t abandon me.”

“What’s the plan, Em?”

Emily buttoned her jeans then wiggled into her bra, balancing her phone against her shoulder again as she clasped it. Suddenly, strong, warm hands covered hers, and she pulled away as Barrett finished her work.

“I have to go, Val,” she murmured, her skin flushing. She hadn’t heard him enter the room. His hands ran slowly down her sides, finally resting on the skin of her waist.

She lowered her iPhone and pressed End, turning to face a sweaty Barrett. His hands skimmed her waist as she spun, then rested on her hips, his fingers splayed out and slightly grasping.

“Morning,” he said, grinning at her.

“Not
good
morning?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and grinning back.


Good
would have been helping you get undressed instead of dressed.” He shrugged and his eyes twinkled as they dipped to her breasts. “Or walking in twenty seconds sooner.”

“Where were you?”

“Running.”

“You better hurry, husband-to-be,” she said, wiggling out of his arms. “We’re expected on a yacht in twenty minutes.”

He grabbed her waist again, pulling her up against his chest, his eyes searing as they caught hers. “Husband-to-be?”

“Just getting into character,” she said, lacing her hands behind his damp neck with a happy shrug. “Last full day of playing fiancée for you. I wonder if I’ll miss it.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

Her mouth dropped open softly, and he took advantage, leaning forward to kiss her, his lips touching down gently on hers. She rose on tiptoes to meet him, stretching as he lifted her closer and touched his tongue to hers, setting off sparks in her brain. His arms encircled her and she sighed into his mouth, barely remembering what life looked like before last weekend when their “engagement” story made her see Barrett in a whole new light.

She kissed his lips softly one last time, then pulled back, but he didn’t let go.

“You’re getting me all sweaty,” she said.

“Maybe you should come shower with me.”

“Barrett!” she exclaimed. “My husband-to-be is so forward.”

“My wife-to-be is so hot,” he retorted, dropping his lips to her neck. She tilted it to the side to give him better access.

“Where has all this charm been hiding?”

“It hasn’t been hiding,” he said, peppering her throat with kisses, his voice deep and drugged. “It’s been waiting.”

“Oh, Barrett.” She sighed, arching into him. “You’re making this so hard.”

“I think that’s my line.”

She chuckled, and it was a sexy throaty laugh that sounded foreign in her ears.

“Maybe make it a cold shower,” she suggested, pushing at his chest.

“You’re killing me, woman,” he said, backing away from her with a long sigh. She heard the shower turn on, so it surprised her when he peeked out of the bathroom door, bare chested. “Sure you won’t join me?”

She couldn’t lift her eyes from his chest. It’s like they were somehow glued to the tan, toned contours of the hard body that he hid under his elegant dress shirts and Armani suits.

“Oh,” she whimpered.

It was his turn to offer her the deep rumble of his laughter. “Breathe, Emmy.”

“Okay,” she murmured, taking a deep breath, but still staring, transfixed. Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she fisted them to keep from crossing the room and running them over his muscles.

He chuckled again. “Finish getting dressed.”

Then he disappeared into the bathroom and Emily sank onto the bed behind her, repeating,
tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
in a whispered litany.

***

Barrett held Emily’s hand as they made their way down the stairs and across the lawn to the yacht that waited at the Harrison’s dock. With her fingers laced through his, he felt on top of the world. The only thing nagging at him was that J.J. Harrison still hadn’t agreed to sell, and Barrett was running out of time to make this a more peaceful transition.

Isn’t there another way?
Emily’s voice bounced around in his head, but he couldn’t think of anything. He specialized in corporate takeovers, not creative acquisitions. He wondered if he should call Stratton and see if his younger brother had any suggestions, but that made him purse his lips. He was Barrett English. He didn’t need to ask for help. J.J. Harrison needed to see reason and sign over his thirty percent. Barrett would make it happen by the end of today.

Hélène greeted them at the dock.

“No business on the boat, Barrett!” she said, waggling her finger at him. “I don’t want to be responsible for you being thrown overboard!”

Barrett smiled politely, but when Emily giggled beside him, his smile widened into something more genuine.

“She’s so good for you,” observed Hélène, smiling at them both as she ushered them onto the main deck of the small ocean liner. “You will remember everyone from last night, and we have two more charming additions… my dear friend, Charity Atwell, and her daughter—”

Barrett’s eyes widened to saucers as he shot a worried glance to Emily by his side.

Hélène moved slightly to the side and a beautiful, blonde woman turned to greet them, bursting into a beaming smile. “Barrett!”

“Fu… Felicity.”

Barrett’s hand was practically wrenched away from Emily’s as Felicity threw herself into his arms, locking her hands around his neck.

“It’s been months!”

“It has,” he said, patting her on the back awkwardly and detangling her hands from his neck so he could pull away.

Felicity Atwell was beautiful, cultivated, and charming, and the Atwell family was one of the oldest in Philly. Though the Atwells and Englishes weren’t particularly close, Barrett and Felicity had known one another throughout their adolescence, attending the same ballroom dancing school, playing tennis in the same intra-country club division, and sharing many of the same friends. At U Penn, they had several classes together, and though Felicity’s blonde, blue-eyed prettiness appealed to Barrett, he’d never been particularly interested in her. He’d been far too focused on his studies, and had no interest in a steady college girlfriend.

After he and Bree Ambler had broken up a few years ago, he’d run into Felicity at a hospital benefit and asked her to dance. They’d ended up back at her apartment having decent, but unimaginative sex, and he’d taken her out for brunch the next morning to be a gentleman. He hadn’t really intended to call her again, but it seemed like whenever they ran into each other, they’d end up sleeping together, and eventually it turned into a habit. When either of them was lonely or between significant others, they’d reach out, and if the other was free too, they’d make time to get together.

The problem was, the sex had never been better than decent, and the conversation had always circled back to their common backgrounds, as though Felicity were making a play for them to start dating. It made Barrett uncomfortable, and he’d called her less and less over the past year. But, it was only when he reconnected with Emily in May and started seeing her more regularly that Barrett realized Felicity’s blonde-haired, blue-eyed looks were just an available substitute for the girl he really wanted. After that, he hadn’t called her again.

“What good luck,” she purred, releasing him. “We’ll have to
get together
later.”

Barrett shot a quick look at Emily, who was watching the proceedings with a mix of surprise and amusement, and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers before she could pull away.

“Of course you know Barrett’s fiancée, Emily Edwards?” asked Hélène cheerfully, putting her arm around Emily. “You must have all known one another at Penn!
Oui
? Where’s your lovely mother?”

Hélène trundled off to find Charity Atwell, leaving the three younger people alone.

“Barrett’s fiancée!” Felicity started laughing right away, a high-pitched tinkling sound that slowly ebbed off as she looked back and forth between Barrett and Emily with widening eyes. She gasped quietly, her lips still tilted up in latent amusement as her eyes brows knitted in confusion. Finally her amusement faded entirely and she clasped her hands delicately in front of her. “Fiancée?”

Barrett gritted his teeth for the most awkward introduction he’d ever had to make. “Emily Edwards, this is Felicity Atwell, an old friend. Felicity, this is my fiancée, Emily Edwards.”

Felicity’s devastated gaze didn’t flicker from Barrett’s eyes. “Your
fiancée
?”

Barrett nodded slowly, pulling Emily against his side. She held out her right hand to Felicity, and Felicity slowly allowed her eyes to drift to Emily. Barrett watched as Felicity swept her gaze over Emily’s body, taking in her jeans and sweater, her blonde hair held back in a ponytail and the small gold studs in her ears. He could tell she felt superior to Emily, confident even, until her glance flicked to their bound hands, and the four-carat Harry Winston Princess cut diamond engagement ring on Emily’s finger.

BOOK: Breaking Up with Barrett: The English Brothers #1 (The Blueberry Lane Series - The English Brothers)
12.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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