Bree stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room and smoothed down her skirt. So maybe the little black dress was sexier than anything she’d normally wear to a business meeting. And maybe she had made a real effort with her makeup tonight.
It wasn’t as if she’d flirted with him.
Okay, maybe she had, but only a little. It was certainly nothing serious.
Her phone rang. It was a video call from Bex. Bree cringed. For a moment, she considered not answering, but that would’ve worried Bex more.
“Hey. You caught me on the way out to dinner.” Bree tried to sound nonchalant.
“Obviously, you’re not going for pizza and a beer down at the pub.” Bex’s expression grew wary, as did her tone. “Let me see what you’re wearing.”
Bree breathed out a long sigh and extended her arm, holding the phone up so Bex could take in the entire outfit—cleavage and all.
“So this is a date.” Bex’s tone had gone from wary to alarmed.
“It isn’t a date.” The objection felt weak, even to Bree. “There’s a restaurant in our hotel, and it happens to have a dress code.”
“Does that dress code require cleavage? The girls are looking pretty spectacular tonight.”
Bree’s cheeks stung with heat. She smoothed a hand down the clingy, black draped jersey dress. “You’re the one who’s always saying I don’t show off my assets enough.”
“And today is the day you decide to listen?” Bex sucked in a deep breath. “Look, Bree, we both know you really like this guy. Hell, I like the guy. In any other circumstance, I’d tell you to go for it. Have a little fun. But there are three really important things for you to remember. Wes doesn’t want anything serious, you do and this guy is the one standing between us getting what we want out of the tournament. Don’t forget any of that.”
“You think I’m too naive to hold my own with Wes.”
“It isn’t that, and this isn’t me scolding you or saying in any way that you should change who you are. You see the good in everyone and you wear your heart on your sleeve. I love those things about you. It’s why we make such a good team. You balance out my craziness, and I need that.” Bex smiled into the camera. “But for you, nothing is strictly business. I doubt Wes shares your philosophy.”
Bex wasn’t wrong. Bree was playing with fire and she knew it. Still, she was drawn to Wes in a way she couldn’t explain. Like they were meant to be together. If not as lovers, at least as friends.
There was a knock at her hotel-room door. A knot tightened in her belly.
“I have to go.” Bree lowered her voice. “But I’ll remember what you’ve said. Promise.”
“Fine. Have fun.” Bex’s exasperated tone indicated she knew her advice had fallen on deaf ears. “Just be careful. I don’t want to have to come out there and kick his ass.”
“’Bye, Bex.” Bree ended the call and dropped the phone in her clutch. She surveyed herself in the mirror one last time.
This is business. Relax. Have fun.
It was a hollow claim, because the closer she got to the door, the faster her heart beat.
* * *
Bree opened the door. “You’re early.”
“And you…look amazing.” Wes jammed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorway.
“You sound surprised.” There was a nervous lilt to her laughter. “I’d like to think I cleaned up pretty well the night we met.”
“You did, but tonight…” He sucked in a deep breath as he surveyed her from head to toe. “Let’s just say you’ve turned it up a notch.”
Brianna looked stunning in a form-fitting little black dress that was ultra-feminine and incredibly flattering on her body. The draped neckline drew his attention to her full breasts. The bow-tie belt detail highlighted her small waist and the clingy fabric hugged every single curve.
He cleared his throat as he took a cream-colored cashmere cardigan from her and helped her into it.
She tied the sash at her waist, grabbed her bag and stepped into the hall.
Wes followed her to the elevator, his eyes drawn to how the fabric hugged her curvy bottom. He dragged his eyes away and punched the down button for the elevator.
“You’re going to love this restaurant.” Wes stared at the elevator doors rather than looking at her. “And this is one of my favorite places to stay whenever I come here.”
“It’s a beautiful hotel, and it’s right across the street from the Biltmore Estate.” Bree ran her fingers through her shoulder-length curls. “Almost makes me wish we were going to be here a bit longer, so I’d have time to visit.”
“Careful.” He grinned inwardly, determined not to ruin the surprise he had planned for her the next day. “Almost sounds like you’re enjoying your time with me.”
“Don’t get too cocky.” She laughed. “It’s too early to make that call, but so far…yes. I am enjoying the trip.”
“Fair enough.” He stepped off the elevator and offered his arm to her. She reluctantly slipped her arm through his and fell in step beside him.
They entered the restaurant, greeted by the enticing scent of savory, grilled meat. The gentle strains of live guitar music filled the air.
“It’s like an upscale hunting lodge.” Bree surveyed the brown-and-red leather seating and the antler chandeliers hanging overhead. “I honestly wouldn’t have thought that was possible.”
Wes chuckled. “Wait until you taste the food.”
“I’ve already studied the menu, so I know exactly what I want.”
His gaze raked over Bree, his heart beating a little faster. He knew exactly what he wanted, too. But it would be better for both of them if he showed restraint.
They were shown to a table, then placed their orders, falling into an easy conversation about Asheville and some of the activities he enjoyed here.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you on a walking tour of downtown. It’s called the Urban Trail.” Wes sipped his beer.
“You’ve probably done the trail at least a half a dozen times.”
“Actually, I’ve only done it once with my mother and aunt. Normally, when I come to town I prefer something a little more challenging. Like a brisk hike.”
Bree raised an eyebrow, as if she’d been challenged. “Then let’s do that instead.”
“The hike takes about four hours.”
“Then we should get started early.”
“The trail can be pretty muddy and it’s challenging for a beginner.”
“Who says I’m a beginner?” Bree asked incredulously. “You do know I make my living as an athlete, right?”
“Fine.” Wes raised his hands, giving in. Bree was determined to go hiking with him. Maybe they’d take the city walking tour later. “Then we’d better make it an early night.”
He was disappointed by the prospect.
“Not necessarily.” She shrugged. “I’m not in training right now. I can handle staying up past my bedtime. Unless you’re the one who can’t function without eight hours of beauty sleep.”
“I’ll manage. Got hiking clothes and shoes?”
“I do.”
Bree for the win.
The server brought out his fried calamari and her roasted pear salad. The look of satisfaction on Bree’s face after she took the first bite of her salad did things to him.
“Anything else I need to know about tomorrow?”
Wes dug in to his calamari and tried to shift his mind to something that didn’t get him so hot and bothered. Like cold showers and sewer drains.
“We’ll be on a tight schedule, and you’ll want to wear comfortable and casual clothing and footwear for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay.” The expression on Bree’s face indicated that the wheels in her head were turning. “Anything else?”
“No.” Wes enjoyed keeping her in suspense. Something about her frustrated little pout made him want to kiss her. He wasn’t sure who was torturing whom.
Later, as he dined on grass-fed filet mignon and she ate her pan-roasted duck breast, butternut squash risotto and bacon-braised greens, their conversation fell into a comfortable rhythm.
“You didn’t mention what took your family to London.” Bree sipped her wine.
“My mother was the house manager for a wealthy family that relocated to London,” Wes said, then sighed. “Actually, that’s what gave us the opportunity to move to London. The reason we moved is because my mother wanted a fresh start for all of us.”
Bree’s eyes were sympathetic and kind, like a warm hug from a dear friend. He could tell she wanted to delve deeper, but seemed unsure if she should.
“My parents divorced when my brother and I were kids. He was a jazz saxophonist who headlined his own band. He and my mom met when he hired her as the band’s female vocalist.”
“Your parents were musicians? They must’ve lived an exciting life.” She sliced into her duck and took a bite.
“They did,” Wes said. “Which is why the old man didn’t adjust too well to family life and working in a factory. He stuck it out eight or nine years, but then he became restless.
“He got the band back together and snagged a few local gigs. At first, that was enough. But then he wanted to hit the road and tour again.” Wes drained his beer, then signaled for another. “My mother didn’t want to drag us all over the world, and she refused to leave us behind. She didn’t want anyone else raising her kids—not even my grandmother.”
“Is that when they split?”
“Not at first. He hired a new vocalist and his band toured the States, then Europe. His calls and postcards became less frequent. Eventually he sent a letter saying that he loved us, but that this was something he needed to do for himself. The divorce papers showed up not long afterward.”
“Wes, I’m sorry.” There was comfort and compassion in her voice, rather than pity. “I understand the betrayal you feel when a parent walks away from you like that…it’s indescribable.”
“I thought your parents were still together.”
Bree seemed to carefully debate her next words. “I’m adopted.”
Wes straightened in his seat, the hair lifting on the back of his neck. “You’re adopted?”
“Yes.” She seemed surprised by his reaction.
“I didn’t mean for it to sound as if…” He took a breath. Get it together, man. “It’s just that I’ve seen some of your interviews and pictures of your family. You resemble your mother quite a bit. I guess we see what we expect to see.”
Nice save.
Bree’s shoulders relaxed. “My adoptive mother is my biological great aunt. My bio mom had me when she was really young. Her aunt and uncle weren’t able to conceive and they couldn’t afford in vitro. So when they learned my bio mom was pregnant and didn’t want the baby, they talked her out of termination and offered to adopt me. I got lucky twice.”
“It’s good you were able to stay with family.” He assessed her carefully before asking his next question. Her open expression seemed to give him permission. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your relationship with your birth mom?”
“We don’t have one,” Bree responded matter-of-factly, but the light in her eyes dimmed and her smile lost its radiance.
Wes glided his hand across the table, wanting to touch hers. He wanted to give her the same comfort her smile had given him earlier. He froze, his fingers a few inches from Bree’s.
Keep it strictly business. Maintain your distance.
“Sorry to hear that, Bree.” He gripped his beer glass instead. “That must be hard.”
“It’s not that I don’t see her. I do. At every family function. She went on with her life and became a successful lawyer. Got married. Had kids of her own.” Bree forced a laugh. “And me, I’m this big family secret that everyone except her husband and kids know about.”
Something deep in his chest bubbled, like hot lava threatening to spill out of a volcano. How could Bree’s mother sit next to her at barbecues and family weddings, pretending they didn’t share the strongest human bond? Didn’t the woman have any idea how that must make Bree feel?
Wes tried to curb the anger building toward a woman he’d never even met. He’d always known how lucky he was to have his mother. She’d given up everything for him. Put all of her dreams aside to give him and his brother the best life she could. For that, he couldn’t thank her enough.
But it was more than just Bree’s situation that bothered him. Her revelation that she was adopted set all those wheels turning in his head. The ones that kept him awake at night.
Adopted children usually went to good homes. Better situations. What about the ones who didn’t? Even when everything looked good from the outside, who could know what was happening behind closed doors?
Wes didn’t realize neither of them had spoken in several minutes until her voice, soft and apologetic, broke through the jumble of thoughts that wrapped themselves around his skull and squeezed like a vise.
“I didn’t mean to put a downer on this lovely meal. I’m not even sure why I told you that. I shouldn’t have. Only a handful of people outside of my family know the truth. So, please don’t tell anyone.”
“Not my business to tell.” He shrugged. “But I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”
Bree squirmed. Something in her eyes indicated that the ease she felt with him was a source of concern for her.
They had that in common, too.
As they finished dinner and shared a generous slice of pecan carrot cake, Wes tried to reassure himself that getting to know Bree was simply a team-building exercise designed to fortify their working relationship. But the truth gnawed at him.
He liked Bree. A lot.
He wanted her friendship, and a rogue part of his anatomy wanted something more.
Trying to strike the perfect balance between building an amicable, working relationship with Bree and keeping a safe emotional distance was a dangerous game. A lot was at stake. For him. For Bree. For Westbrook International.
He couldn’t afford to screw this up.
Yet, when he walked her back to her room, he wasn’t prepared to say good-night.
“Thank you for dinner.” Bree leaned in, one hand pressed to his chest, and kissed his cheek. Her soft scent and body heat surrounded him.
He hadn’t expected the innocent kiss or that he’d be overwhelmed by her nearness.
Bree’s mouth lingered near his as she pulled away so slowly he could hear every microsecond ticking in his head. He willed himself to stay in control. To keep his hands shoved in his pockets, where they wouldn’t get him into trouble.
“You’re welcome.” The words came out much quieter than he’d intended. He dropped his gaze to her sensual lips and she smiled.
“I’d ask you in for an after-dinner drink, but like you said, we’ve got an early morning.” Her voice was soft and captivating, an unspoken invitation.
Wes wet his lower lip and tried to tear his attention away from her mouth and her soft gaze. Tried with every fiber of his being to ignore the fact that he wanted her desperately.
He couldn’t.
Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer. His mouth inched toward hers. Bree’s eyes drifted closed as she leaned in, closing the space that remained between them.
His lips were nearly on hers when laughter erupted from a loud group exiting the elevator. Startled, her eyes opened and she stepped beyond his grip.
Her cheeks were crimson and she somehow managed to look both surprised and disappointed.
Feelings he shared.
Still, another part of him was thankful. This was a business trip, not a love connection. Something they’d both do well to remember.
“Bree, I’m sorry, I—”
“Saved by the bell.” She forced a smile, then dug her hotel key card out and bid him good-night before closing her door.
Wes dragged a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. He needed to pull it together or he and the project were in serious trouble.