Crashed (Entangled Indulgence)(2)

His gaze moved over her body, but his face gave nothing away. Her palms got sweaty again, and her heart started to pound harder.

“Well, this is a surprise. To what do I owe this rare pleasure?” She didn’t miss the hint of bitterness in his voice, because the bastard wasn’t trying to hide it.

The blonde hadn’t retracted her claws from his arm and looked Alex up and down like she was something the rodent-sized, froufrou dog she no doubt had at home had just dragged in.

“You know why I’m here, Deke. So cut the bullshit.” Gasps came from the receptionists, whose heads were so close together now they could pass as conjoined twins, and Deacon’s blonde narrowed her eyes like she wanted to scratch Alex’s eyes out of her head.

The blonde turned into him and smashed her impressive breasts into his side. “Who is this, Deacon? We’re supposed to be having lunch.” She batted what had to be false lashes and pouted her bee-stung pink lips like a blowup doll.

Alex snorted, couldn’t help herself. The woman was a walking, talking cliché.

Deacon tried to hide it, but she didn’t miss the way he tensed, or the way that muscle in his jaw jumped several times. He was clenching his teeth—he did that when he was annoyed, always had. She tried to shrug it off. So he was pissed she’d ruined his lunch date. Well, tough shit.

What did she expect? That the guy had woken up one day and boom, he was no longer a complete and utter asshole? That her feelings would have magically disappeared? If only life were that simple. Her feelings hadn’t diminished, not one tiny bit in all these years. She should have known better, should have left this for Piper or Rusty to sort out.

Deacon disentangled the woman from his arm and took a step back. “Apologies. We’ll have to make it another time, Candice.” And just like that he dismissed the handbag.

Candice’s lips thinned. “You have got to be kidding me?”

He pinned her with a look Alex had never seen before and thankfully had never been the recipient of. God, she almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

“We’ll catch up another time.”

Blondie stared at him openmouthed for several seconds, then with a huff, flicked her long mane over her shoulder and flounced out of the office.

She noted Deacon didn’t watch his date leave, his gaze remained firmly pinned on her. He stepped back and held the door open for her without a word. When she hesitated, the pissed-off vibe he was already throwing ratcheted up a notch. “You’re here to see me, right?”

She didn’t bother answering and stomped forward, sliding past him into his office. Too late to back out now.

The room was big, fancy as hell, decked out with all the best crap money could buy. Massive windows covered half the wall space, giving him a spectacular view overlooking the city of Miami. He’d more than likely gazed out at that view while he banged the human Barbie over his desk. She forced those thoughts from her mind. Deacon’s sordid sex life was none of her business.

Crossing her arms, needing a barrier, no matter how flimsy, she turned to face him. It didn’t matter how many times she saw him like this, she still had a hard time reconciling this Deacon in his power suits and big office with the boy who’d helped out in his father’s garage to save for college.

She looked around, took it all in, and her belly clenched. He’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted. He was a self-made man, a success at only twenty-eight years old, just three years older than her. Too young to be so damn cynical.

God, she still mourned the boy he’d been, the one she’d fallen for when she was just fourteen. The boy she’d trailed after like a lost puppy. Unrequited love at its most pathetic. He’d been her knight in grease-stained coveralls, been there for her more times than she could count.

She didn’t know this Deacon, didn’t know if she wanted to.

“What the hell happened to you?” The words slipped past her lips before she could engage her brain.

His jaw hardened, and the muscle jumped again. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Jesus. Forget it.” She’d been in the same room with him for less than a minute, and already they were bitching at each other.

His wide shoulders stiffened as he walked to his desk, then rested his ass on its surface. “Why are you here, Alex? I have work to do and now, thanks to you, I won’t get lunch.”

Ouch.

She ignored the coldness in his voice, the way his displeasure at seeing her made her want to crawl into the nearest hole and curl into the fetal position, and focused on her anger. She slammed the now rumpled letter on the desk beside him. “What the hell’s this?”