Had To Make You Mine Page 2

  “Yeah, it’s my only redeeming quality.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stepped closer. “I accepted a job and moved here last week.” His eyes dropped to my mouth while I struggled to keep the calm and collected facade going.

  “You should join us tonight,” Jenna said, glancing up from her book. “We’re heading to B’s Bar later on this evening to listen to some local bands and do karaoke.”

  “Do you sing karaoke, Blue,” he said, without a glance to Jenna.

  “Sometimes, but it involves copious amounts of liquor and bad decisions.”

  “Hmm.” His smile was back, showing one glorious dimple that was so deep I could’ve moved into it and lived there happily ever after. “Do I look like a bad decision to you?”

  I sighed, “Yes,” and took another drink, praying he didn’t hear.

  I was suddenly aware of the uncomfortable amount of sticky, under-boob sweat my body was producing. Ugh, to be one of those girls that looked dewy when they sweat. I looked straight up like a half-melted popsicle on a hot cement sidewalk.

  “Thought so, Blue. Thanks for the offer, ladies, but I have plans later.” He lowered his eyes to mine and dropped them down. I felt exposed, as if he could see straight through me.

  “Plus,” he added in a whisper only meant for me, “I’m not looking for a casual fuck.”

  What the hell?

  He put his sunglasses back on and jogged away, leaving me open-mouthed and staring.

  I dropped to my chair to get my heart rate under control while Olivia handed me a fresh beer, ice-cold and already opened.

  “What just happened?” I took a drink and looked down at Baxter. He looked back as if to say, “what do you expect when you get too close to that amount of sexiness wrapped up in trainers and board shorts?”

  Baxter was a boss at silently judging my life choices.

  “Tell us again, Annaleigh, how you want to take a break from dating?” Olivia said with a smile. “One minute, you were eye-fucking each other, and the next, your cheeks turned purple, and he jogged away.”

  Jenna shook her head and filled up Baxter’s water dish, then stood up and looked up at the clouds that were getting darker.

  “See, you just need to meet a guy like him, one that leaves you speechless. Minus the asshole personality.”

  Baxter took a tentative sniff of the water before lapping some and adjusting his position to keep Jenna in his line of sight.

  “No thanks, Jenna. I’m pretty sure I just solidified why I’m done with casual dating, no matter how tongue-tied I was around that man. We can’t just invite a guy to a bar without him thinking I was looking for a hook-up. All Sexy McGrumpy did was remind me that not only has it been way too long since I got some, but my flirting skills are about as under-used as my lady parts.”

  Addison snorted and shook her head before standing up and grabbing her pullover. “Sexy McGrumpy? No, that’s not right. He’s more like Grumpy McHotness. I mean, those shorts left little to the imagination. Even though he had the personality of a wet cat, my bikini bottoms got a little damp watching him move.”

  “Nope. Both of you are wrong. Clearly, tall, tan, and muscles should be known henceforth as Muscles McTightass. With the way you bounced off his chest, Annaleigh, that man is all kinds of sexy.”

  “Wait! I amend my response!” Addison said, jumping up and pointing her finger in the air in typical, dramatic Addison fashion.

  “Amend? Really, Addison.”

  “Shut up, Olivia. Yes, amend. He was giving off all kinds of BDE.”

  “BDE?” I said, standing up and brushing myself off. I gave up after a minute, knowing I’d be washing sand out of all my lady-bits for days.

  “Yeah, you know, BDE. Big-Dick Energy. My vote is for Broody Big-Dick.”

  “Ugh, Ladies. As we rehash and analyze this thirty-second conversation over the next few weeks, the obvious choice is Broody McAsshole, but the second runner-up is Broody Big-Dick,” Jenna said as she finished her water and packed up.

  “Okay, motion passed,” Addison said. “Henceforth, the Southern Charms will only refer to big-dick beach guy as Broody McAsshole. But, either way, his loss, Annaleigh. Let’s head out before those clouds get darker. I want to shower and change before we head to B’s. And I want to try Tommy again. He hasn’t picked up the last few times I’ve called.”

  “Everything okay with you two?” I dumped out the rest of Baxter’s water and stuffed it in my bag. Addison avoided my eyes and focused on folding her towel. I could see how tense she looked and had a feeling she and Tommy were not on the same page anymore.

  “I think so. He’s been hot and cold lately, but his new job is causing him all kinds of stress.”

  “Okay babe,” Olivia said. “Keep us updated. Let’s get back and ready for B’s.”

  We packed our beach gear and piled into Jenna’s soft top jeep.

  The wind whipped through my hair, loosening the braid, and I tried to stop my thoughts from going back to how his bourbon eyes saw straight through me.

  “Okay, motion passed.” Addison said. “Henceforth, the Southern Charms will only refer to big-dick beach guy as Broody McAsshole. But, either way, his loss, Annaleigh. Let’s head out before those clouds get darker. I want to shower and change before we head to B’s. And I want to try Tommy again. He hasn’t picked up the last few times I’ve called.”

  “Everything okay with you two?” I dumped out the rest of Baxter’s water and stuffed it in my bag. Addison avoided my eyes and focused on folding her towel. I could see how tense she looked and had a feeling she and Tommy were not on the same page anymore.

  “I think so. He’s been hot and cold lately, but his new job is causing him all kinds of stress.”

  “Okay babe,” Olivia said. “Keep us updated. Let’s get back and ready for B’s.”

  We packed our beach gear and piled into Olivia’s soft top jeep.

  The wind whipped through my hair, loosening the braid, and I tried to stop my thoughts from going back to those bourbon eyes.

  - 2 -

  WORDS DRIFT ESTRANGED

  Max

  I had to get my fucking anger under control.

  I kicked an invisible rock in the sand with my Brooks Ghost running shoes and pushed myself the last half mile, sprinting until my lungs burned with fatigue.

  Good. Feel the burn. Ugh. No. That sounded like a commercial for hot sauce or an STD medication. Feel the satisfaction? No. That sounded like a bad condom tagline.

  Good thing my degree wasn’t in marketing. I’d likely still be crashing on a friend’s couch if it was.

  I shook my head and stretched before jogging to my Range Rover. The move from Chicago was my chance to start over. It was bad enough it took thirty years, one ex-fiancé, and one estranged brother for me to see the damn writing on the wall. I didn’t need to add ‘asshole’ to the list, especially not to someone as hot as Blue.

  I pulled on a shirt, and she lingered in my mind as if the whole reason for my run was to meet her. But that couldn’t be right—we were complete strangers. Still, the way she looked at me made me feel strange, like she saw me.

  She had curves in all the right places and a carefree smile. That smile, paired with her light blonde hair and supple breasts, made me want to stop and trace my tongue over every freckle that dusted her chest. And the way she sucked on her lower lip… Thank fuck I was wearing compression shorts.

  She was miles shorter and more beautiful than any of the girls I’d spent time with lately, including my ex-fiancé, who thought hot water with lemon was an acceptable meal.

  After I sprinted away like a douche, I could still smell oranges and sunscreen. I gunned my Range Rover, peeling out of the beach access and turning onto the highway, pushing my speed higher and moving farther away from the waves and incoming storm.

  I got home and
was bombarded with the unopened boxes piled in the living room. You would think there would be more, but after giving up my place in Chicago, I had no desire to draw out the inevitable. My fucking damn ex got everything after our breakup, she had a flare for the dramatic, and there was no way I was sticking around to argue about fucking dishes.

  Turning on the stereo, I kicked one of the open boxes because, apparently, I kick things like a toddler having a temper tantrum now. The box toppled over, and I saw a picture of my brother Warren and me after one of my high school baseball games. Our smiling faces stared back, reminding me of the way things were.

  Why the hell did our parents have to fuck up our relationship so much? No, that was a cop-out. I was obsessed with what our parents thought, and I didn’t give Warren the time of day after they had a falling out with him.

  My stomach grumbled, and I grabbed an orange from the welcome basket on the kitchen island. A fucking orange. My thoughts turned back again to the citrus-smelling goddess until a familiar ringtone cut through the space. Warren’s face filled the small screen of my phone, and I walked over to turn down the steady bass line of The Magpie Salute before answering.

  “What took you so long to answer? You jerking-off?”

  “Maybe. And I would make a your-mama joke right now, but you’d probably hurl,” I said, laughing at the irony.

  “Yeah. Gross, asshole. You ready for Monday?”

  I put down the orange and picked up my shirt, rubbing it across my face and chest, before tossing it in the general direction of the stairs. Was I ready for Monday? Looking at our picture again, I picked it up and put it on the kitchen island. Fuck yeah, I was.

  “Yeah, man. I’m having dinner with the Bank President and his wife tonight, and then I have to make some progress on these damn boxes. How are you? Still plan on visiting in a few weeks?”

  “Good to hear, Maxie. Tay keeps me sane by dragging my hairy ass out of the basement every day to join the day-walkers. But hell, I make my own hours, so what could be better?”

  Giving in, I picked the orange back up and smelled it before digging my thumb into its smooth skin. “I still can’t believe I haven’t met Tay,” I said, with a mouthful of oranges.

  “Me too, Bro. We haven’t been to Charleston in forever and are long overdue for a visit. You better plan some fun shit because I’ll have a delightful surprise for you when we get there.”

  “Delightful?”

  “Yes, positively delightful. You heard from them since the move? Or her?”

  It went without saying he was talking about our seemingly perfect parents that chose social status over a relationship with both their sons and my ex. There was not enough alcohol at my place to open that can of worms, and I was trying to keep her the hell out of my head.

  “No. Thank fuck. Radio silence. I keep waiting for a letter from father’s firm saying I was in breach of contract or something. You know he’s bound to pull some stunt like that.”

  “Not really, man. Not anymore.”

  “Oh, damn. Warren, man. I’m sorry.”

  I hung my head and looked at the floor, noticing the steady stream of orange juice dripping from my arm. The orange in my hand was a squeezed, messy pulp. And I now had a mess to clean up on top of everything else.

  “Dude, you gotta quit apologizing. No one knows the mind fuck our parents play better than me. I’m just glad we’re finally talking again.”

  “Me to Warren, I never should have let this much time go by.”

  Grabbing a handful of scattered napkins on the kitchen island, I mopped up what I could before tossing everything in the garbage.

  “Water under the bridge, man. Now tell me, have you fucked her out of your system yet?”

  “Ha! Not looking. Gotta at least unpack and have something in the fridge besides takeout.”

  “I guarantee it will make you feel better, especially after you caught her in the act.”

  “Don’t remind me. That image is not something I’ve been able to forget. I’m glad it happened before we got married. Can you imagine the scandal we would have caused when I filed for divorce? Or if it had made the papers? She is just the sort of person who would cause as much drama and trouble as possible.”

  “Way to look on the bright side. Still, you should at least go on a date. Remind yourself that not all chicks are cheaters.”

  I turned on the water in the sink, ran my arm underneath, and thought about Blue, wondering how tonight would have gone if I had agreed to meet her. Would we have made another date? Realized we were better off going our separate ways? Or gone at it like horny teenagers in the parking lot? Our five-minute conversation had me worked up more than my entire relationship with Nicole.

  I’d always attracted a certain type of woman. It was inevitable with who my parents were, and I never thought I’d tire of the dark-haired beauties who wanted to be on my arm. But their personalities were as fake as their boobs, and I foolishly listened to my parents when they said I made a suitable match with Nicole. I couldn’t imagine marrying someone like her now. She was like a black widow disguised as a butterfly, ready to strike as soon as my guard was down.

  “You there, Maxie? Did you die?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I met someone today at the beach, but I was a complete dick to her.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “Who knows? I couldn’t get Nicole’s cheating face out of my head. She’s buried herself in my brain like a fucking carpenter bee. No matter how much I try to stop thinking about her, I can’t.”

  “Well, that’s understandable considering you walked in on her spread-eagle on your bed. But don’t sweat it. Just do better next time. Eventually you’ll meet the right girl, and when you do, trust me, you’ll know, man. You’ll know. Maybe that girl was someone to get your mind off Nicole, even if it was just for a little while.”

  I missed Warren’s straightforward logic. We were going to have a great time when he visited.

  We talked a little longer before I bowed out. My sweat from the run was permeating the townhouse. I had to shower.

  After I hung up, I sorted through the growing pile of takeout menus on the counter and added grocery shopping to my growing to-do list. I grabbed another piece of fruit from the welcome basket Jake sent, glancing at the oranges in the basket and thinking of Blue. I headed up the stairs to take a shower, thankful the city seemed large enough that the chances of seeing her again were next to nothing.

  After my shower, I found one of my Tom Ford suits in the back of the closet still in the dry-cleaning bag. I paired it with a muted blue shirt, maroon tie, and Brioni loafers. Once dressed, I grabbed my phone to see where the Country Club was, and surprisingly, it was close to home. When Jake first mentioned the club, he saw my hesitation but assured me the restaurant was one of the best in the area, and he had an in. He laughed when he told me his in was Katie, his wife, and the Head Tennis Pro

  I pulled under the awning and handed the valet my keys, taking in the vastness of the Country Club while waiting for Jake outside. I caught the tail end of a tour, remembering Jake had told me this used to be a working plantation.

  “This Plantation House turned Country Club has been around since the 1800s, on almost a thousand acres of plantation land near the Cooper River, complete with an eighteen-hole golf course. Notice the tall white columns and balcony that runs along the outside edge, and the towering oak trees hanging heavy with Spanish moss and bright, perfectly manicured flowers and shrubbery.”

  Half listening, I spotted Jake and his wife walking towards me, and I waved my hand in greeting. After introductions, we walked inside and made our way to the restaurant. The inside was impressive, with open staircases that led to the upper levels and skylights to showcase the house’s natural light.

  I nervously removed my glasses and cleaned them on my tie but was put at ease with how laid-back Jake and
Katie were. They both stopped to introduce me to several people, and Katie greeted the server by name, asking about his daughter, and ordering a white wine. Jake ordered a gin and tonic, and I got a bourbon on the rocks.

  As the evening went on, I found myself enjoying their company and looking forward to Monday. Katie was an absolute delight, and I found out Jake was an avid golfer and in a jam band. We talked about music and planned to come back and play the course in a few weeks.

  As Katie finished her dessert, our conversation turned from music and golf to work.

  “So Max, these first few weeks, take time to familiarize yourself with your clients. Make calls, set up meetings, and most importantly, utilize your assistant. She’ll be invaluable and answer questions.”

  “Absolutely, Jake. I look forward to working with you both.”

  “Plus, Max. She’s a stunner,” Katie added, earning a stern look and then a grin from Jake.

  I wasn’t sure how to answer Katie, so I stayed quiet, earning a respectful nod from Jake. Not that I minded having a hot assistant. I’m sure she’d make the long days go by faster, but I didn’t need any distractions. Like I told Blue on the beach, I wasn’t interested in a one-time fuck.

  And Nicole was still taking up too much space in my head. I was done with drama and done with my last name. I dropped it with the move and went by my middle name now.

  Katie looked between us both and backtracked quickly, “So Max, you practiced Law in Chicago? What made you want to switch to Commercial Banking?”

  “Yes. I practiced at my family’s firm for just over seven years but was ready for a change. It will be nice to put my MBA to good use.”

  “So, you are extremely motivated?” she asked, making me shift in my seat and wish I had ordered another bourbon.

  “Um. Career motivated, yes.”

  Jake brought the conversation back around to the upcoming Whiskey Gala next weekend, and I breathed a sigh of relief. As we said our goodbyes a few hours later, I felt lighter than I had in years.