Her Accidental Boyfriend(3)

She shook her head to rid those crazy thoughts. She’d promised herself not to let anyone get too close, even if Shane wanted her for nothing more than a scratch to his itch. Going home to New York was always in the back of her mind. Her lease was up in two months. And even though hooking up with the town playboy would just be physical for him, she didn’t work that way. She couldn’t get involved and then leave.

So the few rides home from work when her car was in the shop and a handful of shared minutes around town when she bumped into Shane did not mean anything more than an amiable association.

The erotic dreams she’d had of him didn’t count. And she quickly extinguished thinking about the one she’d had the other night where Shane wore nothing but—

“Earth to Kagan.” Charlotte snapped her fingers. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry. No.” She stuffed a piece of cake in her mouth to buy herself a few seconds to gather her wits.

“Okay. Spill.”

“Spill what?”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.”

“I’ve spent the past forty-eight hours waiting for you to tell me, but as usual, I have to drag it out of you.” She glanced at the silver and diamond watch on her wrist. “And my plane leaves in three hours so start talking.”

Kagan slouched in her chair and tucked her hair behind her ear. Charlotte always could read her. “I left New York to be anonymous while I figured things out and it’s been great here. No one knows who I really am. But I still don’t know what I want to do, and standing up to my dad when I go back isn’t an option without a plan. He’ll just put all the same unreasonable demands on me again, and I hate the thought of being back in New York if I’m not on speaking terms with him.”

Charlotte put her fork down and crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair. “I’m sorry, Kay. What can I do?”

Kagan let out a deep breath and then smiled at her best friend. “You’re already doing it.”

“Look, don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Without your dad breathing down your neck, you’ll figure things out. Once you do, he’ll listen. He does love you.”

“I know. And I—”

The doorbell rang, cutting her off. She had no idea who it could be and hopped up to answer it. The second she opened the door every muscle in her body tensed and her heart stopped.

She’d been found.

“Hello, Kay,” Brett said. “Happy birthday.” He held a bouquet of flowers in his hand and wore a smile that might have excited most girls, but at the moment made her want to be sick. He was her father’s chief financial analyst and the son he never had. She’d been his friend—until her father decided he wanted them to marry.

She gripped the edge of the door and leaned against it. “How did you find me?”

“Did you really think we wouldn’t?”

Charlotte appeared at her side. “Brett? Oh shit.” She canted her head down and put a hand on her forehead. “You had me followed, didn’t you? Kay, I’m so sorry.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Kagan warned Brett.

He handed her the flowers. “Give me ten minutes, Kay.”

Reluctantly, she let him in. She had no idea how her legs didn’t buckle underneath the discomfort of seeing him. They sat in her living room, Charlotte by her side, Brett across from them.

“What are you doing here?” Kagan asked, in no mood for small talk.

“Your father sent me to talk to you.”

Without thought, Kagan said, “How is he?” Despite her father’s iron fist, she did miss him. He wanted things his way, but Kagan knew his sense of control was what kept him from losing his composure. Her mother’s unexpected death had changed him too.

“He’s well given the circumstances. He’s pretty upset you dropped the Donaldson and are using Owens.”

“He didn’t leave me much choice.”

Brett rested his elbows on his knees. “You were gone in the blink of an eye, Kay. No word. No good-bye. Just gone. You can imagine the painful memories that stirred up…losing the person he loves more than anyone else.”

Her breath hitched. She hadn’t thought of it that way, had never compared her running away to her mom’s sudden death from a brain tumor. “I sent him a letter.” Telling him she’d had to leave before she suffocated, before she lost what little scrap of herself she had left.

Before he forced her to marry the man sitting across from her.

“He wants you to come home,” Brett said. “I want you to come home. There’s nothing keeping you here. Small town doesn’t suit a city girl like you.”