Beautifully Used (The Beaumont Brothers Book 2) (11 page)

Chapter 2
3

I was
beyond pissed, to say the least. I called the DA to find out why they believed some cockamamie story and not ours. They told me the same thing they’d told Gabrielle, adding in the quote that Gabrielle had left out about her wanting to fuck him silly, something I could never imagine her ever saying. When I asked them who the girl was that’d lied for him, they told me her name was Kate Bradley. She’d sworn that she’d been with Jeff and Gabrielle the entire evening, and only left them when Gabrielle told her to, insisting that she wanted to be alone with Jeff. She said she’d snuck past me because she had a feeling that I was jealous and was about to start something that she didn’t want any part of.

I couldn’t picture her
, nor did I have any recollection of meeting anyone at the wedding with that name. Then I remembered. The dark haired girl in the pink dress sitting alone at one of the tables at the reception. A girl I hadn’t recognized, and whom I figured had come with someone as a guest. I’d never given her much thought, until now. But why lie for Jeff?

After the phone call to the
DA, I reluctantly drove Gabrielle to the house to look at the room she wanted to rent. There weren’t many rooms available around this town, and she needed to act fast before someone else took it. On the way, I told her about the detective agency Jackson and I used to have, and told her that I wanted to investigate this Kate character. Gabrielle didn’t seem interested in talking about it. In fact, she was quiet for most of the ride, somewhat withdrawn and spent most of the trip just staring out at the trees. The house wasn’t too far away from mine, about two miles as the crow flies, but about three in actuality considering all the side roads winding around on the way to the heart of downtown. Not a bad area, but not the best either. The thought of her living here sickened me.

It was a
single room and that was all, hardly large enough to hold a twin-sized bed. She’d have to share a bathroom with a little boy since the room didn’t have one of its own. Not like the room she already had at my house. This tiny room only had a small closet with two sliding doors. At least the room at my house had a walk in closet and its own bathroom. When she told the man that she’d take it, I pulled her outside to talk to her, giving the man an apology on our way.

“Gabrielle, why do you want to move here? There’s no privacy. You’ll have to share a bathroom with a seven year old boy.”

“I can’t afford much else.”

“But why don’t you just stay at my house? At least you’d have your own bathroom and shower
, plus a walk-in closet.”

She stared at me, her eyebrows knitted closely together. “I didn’t think that was an option.”

“Well, it is.” I didn’t want her to live somewhere else.

She bit her bottom lip
and scratched her temple with her finger, then looked up at me. “How much?”

I raised my eyebrows. She hadn’t been paying anything.
She’d been a guest. I hadn’t even thought about charging her. Hell, Jackson had Lena living there for free. I didn’t feel right charging Gabrielle. I shrugged. “I don’t know. You don’t need to pay me anything for now. We can work it all out later.”

She shook her head. “I won’t live there for free.
Being there as a guest these past few weeks was fine, but I need to pay for myself from here on out. This place is $400 a month so I can pay that much.”

I coughed and lowered my voice. “They want $400 for that tiny room?”

She nodded then turned and stepped up to the door and waved at the man inside. “Thanks. Um … I’m going to keep looking.” She skipped down the two steps and when she reached me, she put her hand on my arm, edging me down the walkway to the car.

“Were they giving you kitchen privileges?” I asked.

“No.”

“
Dayum. I should charge you no less than $600 then.”

“I’m only going to pay $400
,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest.

I nodded
and pulled the truck away from the curb. Happy she was staying with me. Well, at my house. Especially now that Jeff was free of all charges and out of jail.

Chapter 24

I got Brodie to agree not to tell Jackson and Lena about what
had happened with Jeff right away. I told him I would tell Lena in private, and he could tell Jackson at the same time, but I didn’t want to be in the room when he told Jackson. It was embarrassing enough that Brodie even knew about it. I wanted to be the one to tell Lena. She would never forgive me for keeping it from her if she found out from someone else. I was glad my lip, as well as Brodie’s lip, had healed before Lena and Jackson returned from their honeymoon. She was very curious about my living arrangements when I told her I had never stayed at their house and that I was renting the bedroom at Brodie’s. I assured her that Brodie and I had checked on her place several times during the week to make sure everything was okay and that Rufus had stayed at Brodie’s with us. I also had to convince her more than once that there was nothing going on between Brodie and me, and that took up most of the morning and two pots of coffee.

“But the strange thing is, Lena
,” I began after sipping yet another cup of coffee. At this rate, I was sure to find the energy and inspiration I needed to write that next chapter in my book. “Brodie isn’t anything like the way you had led me to believe.”

“How so?”

“Well, I don’t think he sleeps around with every woman he comes in contact with. At least I haven’t seen it. In fact, I haven’t seen him with anyone the whole time I’ve been here.”

“Really?” She said reflectively. “That’s odd.”

“Why is it so odd?”

“Because for th
e past year, ever since I’ve known him, he’s made a great effort not to sleep here at home, and when he did, he was never alone and it was never with the same woman more than a few times at the most.”

“Well, he’s been sleeping here every night, alone
, since I arrived.” A fact that I was extremely glad about, especially now that Brodie and I were housemates. And now friends to boot. I didn’t want to hear him in his room getting it on with some floozy he picked up in the bar, nor did I like the idea of being left here in the old farmhouse alone with my thoughts and fears after what had happened at the reception. Which reminded me, I still needed to tell Lena about it.

I went to the fridge and pulled out some turkey lunchmeat and
eight slices of bread. “There’s something I need to tell you.” I began speaking as I stayed focused on the sandwiches I was making. I spread some mayonnaise on each slice then laid the turkey on four of them.

“What?”

I turned to glance at her and she smiled. I decided it was best to just say it. Quickly. “At the reception, Jeff Adams tried to rape me.”

Lena was on her feet and standing beside me before I could even blink.
Her arm was around my shoulder. “What happened?”

I told her the whole story
, and about how the police believed Jeff and the girl he had lie for him, choosing not to believe Brodie or me. “I suppose since Brodie hadn’t shown up until later, it really was her and Jeff’s word against mine,” I found myself admitting.

“This is horrible, Gabby. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have wanted to postpone your honeymoon, and I wasn’t having any of that.”

“You’re right. I would have. And so would
’ve Jackson. I’m sure of it.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. That’s exactly why Brodie and I decided not to let you know until you came home.”

“I’m glad Brodie was there in time. Oh my God, that’s so frightening. I can’t believe … Jeff. He doesn’t look like a rapist.”

“And what exactly does a rapist look like?” Brodie asked as he and Jackson entered the kitchen.

She turned to face him. “Good point.”

I chimed in to her rescue. “Beady, sinister
-looking eyes, possibly balding head, or maybe just shaved, let’s not forget the scruffy beard. Or a hooded mask over his face and a big knife in his hand. That’s what a rapist is supposed to look like. Not like a freakin’ cover model, not like Jeff Adams.”

The three of them just
gawked at me not knowing what to say. I suppose the cover model comment may have been a bit much, but Jeff had been awfully attractive. Handsome guys weren’t supposed to be rapists. They weren’t supposed to need to attack a woman to have sex with them. Women usually threw themselves at them. But not me. Not me. It suddenly became so fucking obvious. I turned back around to concentrate on the sandwiches in front of me. I wiped the tear off my cheek with the back of my hand. I sucked in the rest of the tears, determined to hold it together long enough to finish making these goddamn sandwiches.

“So
, how was the honeymoon?” Brodie asked after the awkward deluge of silence. Thank God.

I
kept my back toward them all as Lena sucked in a breath and began talking about Hawaii and the excursions they went on; the snorkeling, the beaches. I cut each sandwich in half and positioned them all neatly in a circular pile on a large plate, placing it in the middle of the table. Brodie got out four beers and twisted off the caps before placing one in front of each of us while Lena and Jackson took turns telling us every little detail about their fairy tale honeymoon. Everything was perfect and back to normal once again.

The next two weeks flew by
, and I was able to complete another ten chapters in the new book. Brodie still slept at home in his own bed every night, and I wondered if or when he would start going back to his past habits. I considered that maybe he was just staying home because of what had happened to me and was being nice by not leaving me alone. I’m sure I mentioned more than once about how much it frightened me that Jeff was out walking the streets. One of these days, I’d get up the courage to ask Brodie about his past. Lena mentioned that something horrible had happened that made him not want to settle down with anyone or even get into any type of relationship, though she also said that she didn’t know what it was since Jackson told her he wasn’t at liberty to say. She’d shrugged it off as one of those brotherly things that she had no intention of trying to understand or get in the middle of.

I desperately tried to keep thought
s about my own past from entering my mind, as well as push any visions of Jeff’s attack away. I didn’t want them to interfere with the romantic scene I was writing. I did, however, think of Brodie and how different he was from the very first time I’d met him. I wondered how different things might have been if I hadn’t struck him and had let him kiss me. Come to think of it, I did let him kiss me. It wasn’t until his hand suddenly started roaming over my breasts that I had stopped him. I closed my eyes, thinking of that kiss, trying desperately to remember how his lips had felt on mine, but the act had been so brief, my memory couldn’t conjure any type of feeling. I hugged my arms around myself, wishing for a do-over.

Chapter 2
5

The unusually slow evening at the bar dragged
, so I made good use of my time and wiped down the countertop as I waited for Derrick to come in and relieve me. The door to the bar swung open wide as Jackson came in carrying his guitar. It was Wednesday night, and the band wasn’t scheduled to play. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced up at me on his way to the stage. “
I hoped you’d still be here because I didn’t have time to call you. I have some news. The rest of the band is supposed to be here in a few minutes. I just brought my guitar in case anybody wanted to jam.”

“What sort of news?” My mind raced with all kinds of things from
new songs to, God forbid, not babies. I wasn’t prepared to be an uncle quite yet.

“Good news. You’ll just have to wait for the rest of the guys and Lena.”

I threw the damp bar rag into the bucket with the rest of the dirty ones and headed toward the stage. The front door swung open again as Lena and Kipper strolled in laughing at God knows what. Denny entered a few minutes later. We all sat on the stage staring at Jackson, waiting for this news he had to share. I think everyone held his or her breath in anticipation because it was so quiet you could even hear the hum of the refrigerator all the way from the back room.

Jackson smiled. “It seems that we’ve been hired by a Hollywood celebrity to play at a
bash down in Malibu. That is if you are all interested.” Everyone nodded profusely.

“Who,”
Kipper, our drummer, asked.

F
ollowed by, “Yeah, who,” a grinning Denny, who played a mean keyboard added. Lena simply sat with her hands in her lap. I bet she already knew.

“Gerard Butler.”

“The
300
guy?” I said.

“Yep,” Jackson confirmed. “That’s the one.”

Lena smiled and added, “Don’t forget
P.S. I Love You
.”

“This is awesome! I can’t believe King Leoni
das invited us to play at one of his parties.” Kipper said and I smirked.

“Actually, we aren’t being hired
by
him, but for him. His event planner called me today and offered us the gig. She was apparently up here a few nights ago, came into the bar and heard us play. It was one of the nights Lena and Gabby did some of their great harmonizing.”

“I guess we
’d better have Gabby come with us then,” Lena suggested as her eyes fell upon mine. She quickly added, “If we take it, that is.”

“Of course,
we’re going to take it. Right?” Kipper looked around hopefully at everyone as if to say, ‘you’re crazy if we pass this up’.

“When is it?” I asked.

“Next week. I know, I know,” he said with his hands up and palms out when everyone just gaped at him like he had green skin. “But we can get it together by then. We just need to spend some time getting songs together.”

“We’ll have to practice every night until then,” Kipper suggested. “But I’m still in.”

“Well, what say the rest of you?” Jackson demanded.

“Hell yeah. I’m in,” Denny piped up as Kipper clapped
him on the back.

“Okay. What about you?” Jackson gestured toward me.

I shrugged. “Sounds fun.”

Jackson turned to Lena. “Lena?”

“Of course! Yes!” She jumped up and flung her arms around Jackson. “This is going to be so great! Gerard Butler. He’s so … so … wait! He can sing! He
is
the phantom. He can sing circles around all of us. I don’t think I can sing in front of him.”

“You’ll be fine
, and Gabby will be singing with you. Do you think Gabby will want to come?”

“She
’d better.”

Lena had that right. If Gab
rielle didn’t go with us, I didn’t think I’d feel real comfortable leaving her home alone. Not with psycho Jeff out of jail.

The house was quiet when I came home. Gabrielle
must have set the three-tiered floor lamp in the corner of the living room on the lowest setting, which gave the room a soft romantic ambiance. I almost wished I had someone to enjoy it with. It was still early, not quite past eight o’clock. I wondered if Gabrielle was still up. This was the first night in about two weeks that I’d stayed at the bar past six. I’d been covering most of the day shifts so I could be home at night, and had hired another guy to help fill in some of the shifts that Derrick and I juggled. Jackson even came and worked for a few hours on the nights Lena waited tables and the nights before the band started playing. I didn’t like the idea of Gabrielle being in the house alone at night. The evenings that the band played, Gabrielle came in to listen and was invited up to sing with us several times by Jackson. Gabrielle and Lena had a great harmony going on that the crowd went ape-shit over every time they sang together. I had to admit, their sound was unique, and I enjoyed playing with the band those nights more than the usual.

The house seemed unusually quiet.
I wanted to call out to her, then considered that she might be sleeping and that it would be rude of me to wake her. I peeked in the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. Hunger pangs tugged at my stomach, but I needed a shower first, so I walked quietly down the hall toward my room. Passing hers on the way, I glanced in since her door was open. There she was, sitting, head bent over her laptop as her fingers flew over the keys, her long brown hair pulled back into a long ponytail that draped over her right shoulder and kissed the top of her bare thigh. She wore a t-shirt covering a small portion of that thigh, but it looked to me like the t-shirt was the only thing she had on. “Hey,” I said.

She looked up at me and smiled, oblivious to the fact that she was sitting there looking so sexy and tantalizing. I had a hard time keeping myself planted in the door jam
b instead of pouncing onto the bed and pulling her into a long seductive kiss. Any red-blooded male would have. God, this woman drove me nuts. How would I ever survive this arrangement?

“Hi. You worked late. Did you have a chance to eat dinner?” Her melodious words jarred me from my
intemperate, seductive thoughts.

“Uh … no. You?”

“No. I waited. I’ve been craving sushi and hoped I could convince you to do take out.”

I fished my phone out of my pocket and looked at the white
neon 8:12 on the display. It’s kind of late. We could call and see if they’ll still deliver this late. I searched through my contacts and located the local sushi restaurant, well, the only sushi restaurant. Lucky for us, they delivered. Even luckier, they were still open for business. “Hold on just a sec,” I said into the phone and handed it to her. “Here, order whatever you want.” I pulled out my wallet, snatching out my credit card and handing it to her. “I like everything, but make sure to add in some spicy stuff. I’m gonna hop in the shower. See if they’ll deliver a bottle of saké too. Something dry and bold. We have some celebrating to do.” I turned quickly before she could ask me anything, leaving her with the phone, and headed to my room. I wanted to yell back and tell her to put some clothes on, but thought better of it. She probably had short shorts on that I couldn’t see. Gabrielle wasn’t the type to sit around in her underwear with her door open.

Hot water flowed over my head and I closed my eyes, but all I saw was flesh
; the silky flesh of Gabrielle’s thighs. As I spread the soap over my chest and stomach, I grabbed my already stiff cock in my hand, realizing I should have made it a cold shower. When was the last time I’d gotten laid? And why had it been so long? Women usually didn’t affect me the way Gabrielle did. The desire to be with her grew stronger every day, and I didn’t think she hated me anymore. God she was beautiful. Sexy too, sitting there over her laptop. I wondered what she was typing. A scene from her book, no doubt. Was it a sex scene? Did she even write those? What kind of sex scene would Gabrielle write? I thought of Gabrielle typing a scene about a fourteenth-century warrior from the Scottish Highlands taking pleasure in the damsel he’s just rescued. I closed my eyes, becoming that warrior as Gabrielle’s lips grazed over my stomach, tantalizing me with the tip of her tongue going lower and lower until she licked the tip of my cock. The smooth texture of her tongue gliding over me was almost too much to bear. She shifted her position and climbed on top of me, urgently guiding me. I held on tightly as she sat on top of me gyrating her hips, taking me in as deep as I would go until I could feel the wall of her cervix against my tip, in and out, until she called out my name. I must have been pumping unconsciously as my release had me falling back against the cold shower wall. I opened my eyes to find cum all over the shower door. “Shit.”