Authors: Samantha Young
The blonde receptionist wasn
’
t what I
’
d been expecting at all. She was about Elodie
’
s age but carried at least twenty pounds more than Elodie, and she was beaming at me with a big friendly smile. Her nametag said
‘
Morag
’
. I
’
d been gearing myself up for someone tall, thin and beautiful who would sneer at my jeans and try to have me removed from the building. Was I in the right office?
“Can I help you?” Morag was still beaming at me.
“Uh…” I glanced around, looking for a sign that this was Braden
’
s office. “I
’
m looking for Braden Carmichael.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
Okay, so it
was
his office. I stepped up to the reception and waved the envelope. “He left these documents at his sister
’
s
–
my roommate
’
s place
–
and, um, asked her to bring them in. She couldn
’
t, so I said I would.”
If it was possible, Morag
’
s grin got even wider. “Oh how nice of you, dear. Can I take a name?”
“Joss Butler.”
“One second.” She picked up the phone on her desk and didn
’
t have to wait long. “I have a Joss Butler here with some documents for you, Mr. Carmichael.” She made an
‘
mmm hmm
’
noise. “I
’
ll do that.” She hung up and smiled at me. “Let me show you to Mr. Carmichael
’
s office, Jocelyn.”
I clenched my teeth. “It
’
s Joss.”
“Mmm hmm.”
It was annoying enough that he refused to call me anything but Jocelyn, did he really have to get other people on board? I followed the cheerful, middle-aged receptionist down a narrow corridor until we came to a corner office. She knocked, a deep voice answering with a
‘
come in
’
. I shivered at that voice and wondered for a second if I
’
d missed it these last two weeks.
“Jocelyn for you, sir,” Morag announced as she opened the door.
I wandered in past her and heard the door shut behind me as she left us alone.
The office was bigger than I was expecting with one large window that looked down on the quay. It was very masculine with a huge walnut library desk, leather chair, black leather couch and sturdy bookshelves hefty with folders and hardbacks. A few metal filing cabinets were stored in the corner. On the wall above the couch was a huge painting of Venice, and on the bookshelves more than one framed photograph of him with Ellie and with Adam and with Ellie
’
s family. In the corner behind me were a treadmill and a weight bench.
Braden was perched on his desk, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he watched me. I felt that kick to my gut again at the sight of him and the familiar tingling between my legs. Jesus C, he was even hotter than I remembered.
Fuck, shittity, fuck, shit.
“Hey.” I waved the envelope at him.
Witty opener, Joss, very witty
.
Braden smiled at me and I froze as his eyes washed over the length of me, taking his time taking me in. I swallowed hard, my heart kicking it up a gear
—
he hadn
’
t looked at me like that since the night at the bar with Holly. “It
’
s nice to see you, Jocelyn. Feels like forever.”
Ignoring the flush of pleasure those words produced, I strode forward and held out the envelope. “Ellie said you needed these pronto.”
He nodded, still gazing at me as he took the documents. “I appreciate you bringing them down. How much do I owe you for taxi fare?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “It wasn
’
t a problem. I was just beating my head off my desk anyway.”
“Writer
’
s block?”
“Writer
’
s cement.”
He smirked. “That bad?”
“So bad.”
With a sympathetic smile he stood up, bringing our bodies to touching distance. I felt the breath whoosh out of me as my head tilted back to meet his gaze. “Sorry I had to cancel on you those last few times.”
He made it sound like he
’
d cancelled a date. I laughed, confused. “O-kay.”
“I stopped by last night but you weren
’
t there.”
“I was working. Extra shifts.” I took a step back, hoping the less proximity I had to him, the faster it would reduce the heat in my blood.
I thought I saw him smile as he turned and put the documents on his desk. “The last time we saw each other I think something I said sent you running for the hills. Or maybe someone that was with me?”
Arrogant asshole.
I guffawed. “Vicky?”
His grin was cocky now as he looked back at me. “Were you jealous?”
Were we actually having this conversation? I hadn
’
t seen him in two weeks and, and… pfft! Smiling in astonishment at his egotism, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know, it
’
s a wonder I managed to squeeze into the room what with your giant-assed ego taking up all the space.”
Braden laughed. “Well you ran off because of something, Jocelyn.”
“One: stop calling me Jocelyn. It
’
s Joss. J-o-s-s. Joss. And two: you had just insinuated that I was somehow
‘
family
’
after only knowing me a few weeks.”
His brow puckered as he processed this and he leaned back against the desk again, crossing his arms over his wide chest as he thought about it. “I did?”
“You did.”
Suddenly his eyes were searching my face and they were full of all sorts of questions. “Ellie told me about your family. I
’
m sorry.”
My muscles locked, the heat he
’
d created evaporating as if he
’
d just blasted on the a/c. What could I say? I didn
’
t want him to make a big deal out of it, and I also didn
’
t want him psycho-analyzing me. “It was a long time go.”
“I didn
’
t realize I
’
d insinuated that. About family. But things are starting to make sense. The dinner at Elodie
’
s… you running off-”
“Don
’
t,” I snapped, taking three steps towards him. “Braden, don
’
t,” my voice quieted as I tried to calm down the urge to bite at him like a wounded animal. “I don
’
t talk about it.”
As he studied me I couldn
’
t help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he think I was nuts? Pathetic? Did I care? And then he just nodded. “I get it. We don
’
t have to…”
Relief washed over me and I took a step back only for Braden to move into me so he was almost touching me again. “I was thinking of having a picnic on The Meadows this Saturday if it
’
s nice out
—
to make it up to Ellie for not being around a lot lately. I know she misses Adam too. Will you come?”
“That depends?” I found my way back to snarksville in an attempt to feel less off-balance. “Are you going to insinuate that I
’
m jealous of the sandwich you
’
ll be eating?”
He burst out laughing, a full body laugh that did sweet things to my insides. “I deserve that.” He prowled closer so I had to step back. “But will you forgive me and come? As friends?” However, there was something deliberately sarcastic about the way he said
‘
friends
’
.
I eyed him suspiciously. “Braden…”
“Just friends.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and darkened. “I told you. I can pretend if you can pretend.”
“I
’
m not pretending.” Was that my voice that sounded all hot and breathy?
Braden just smirked at me like he didn
’
t believe me. “You know you
’
re really putting pressure on my acting skills.”
“Acting skills?”
“Pretending, Jocelyn.” He took another step forward, his eyes narrowed with intent. “I
’
ve never been very good at it.”
Oh my God, he was going to kiss me. I was standing in his office in crappy jeans with crappy hair and he was going to kiss me.
“Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Rosings and Ms. Morrison are here to see you,” Morag
’
s voice echoed into the office from the intercom and Braden tensed.
A strange mix of relief and disappointment flooded me and I took an uneasy step back, turning towards the door. “I
’
ll let you get on.”
“Jocelyn.”
I twisted around, my eyes looking anywhere but into his. “Yeah?”
“The picnic? Will you be there?”
The blood was still whooshing in my ears and my body was still strung tight with anticipation for his kiss, but I shoved that all aside, remembering who he was and how much he scared me. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “As your little sister
’
s roommate, yeah, I
’
ll be there.”
“Not as my friend?” he teased.
“We
’
re not friends, Braden.” I pulled his office door open.
“No. We
’
re not.”
I didn
’
t have to turn around to see his expression. I felt it in his words. Hurrying down the hall, I barely managed a quick wave to Morag before diving into the elevator that would take me away from him. What had happened? Where had the platonic,
‘
friendly
’
Braden gone, and why was
‘
Cab Braden
’
back? I thought I wasn
’
t his type? I thought I was safe.
No. We
’
re not.
Those words echoed in my head as I burst out of the office building and into the fresh air. It wasn
’
t the words. It was the tone they
’
d been wrapped up in. And those words had been wrapped up in a whole lot of sexual intent.
Fuck
.
I didn
’
t go to Braden
’
s picnic.
Well, I did, but I didn
’
t.
Flabbergasted by his transformation back into shmexy
‘
Cab Braden
’
who couldn
’
t take his eyes off of me, I didn
’
t know what to make of it in all my confusion. And yes, in all my scaredy-pantishness! So I took the coward
’
s way out and roped Rhian into helping me
–
while also lying to her about why
–
out of the situation without making it
seem
like I wanted to get out of the situation…
Saturday rolled by and it was a surprisingly hot day, and The Meadows
–
a large park on the other side of the city by the university
–
was crowded with sunbathers and people playing sports. Braden had managed to grab a spot in the shade. Adam, Jenny, Ed and Braden were already there as Ellie and I approached, the sounds of laughter, kids shouting, and dogs barking creating a happy soundtrack to the scene. It was a perfect day, and the atmosphere in The Meadows was electric with contentedness. For a minute I wished I was staying.
“Uh…” I gazed down at the two hampers Braden had brought. They were so elaborate I wouldn
’
t have been surprised if he
’
d stolen them out of a
Fortnum & Mason
’
s
display. “You call this a picnic?”
Braden had stood up when we approached, hugging Ellie into his side and gesturing proudly to the hampers sitting on a beautiful chenille blanket. Now he looked confused. “Yes.” he frowned at me. “What would you call it?”
“A five star restaurant on grass.”
The corner of his lip curled up in wry amusement. “I had the staff at the restaurant make them up.”