Breaking Up With Barrett, The English Brothers #1

Chapter 10

It had been a long evening to say the least. From the moment Emily found Barrett and J.J. talking in the living room, Barrett had been in a pisser of a mood. There had been cocktails on the lawn followed by a lovely lobster dinner al fresco with a guitarist who strolled around the long candlelit table of eighteen guests taking requests. But with a taciturn Barrett to her left, obviously at odds with J.J. Harrison and probably still spoiling from their truncated make-out session, the evening had rolled on heavily. Emily mostly made polite conversation with the gentleman beside her, a fairly dull lawyer visiting from New York.

After dessert, when Emily was quite sure she'd learned everything possible to know about copyright law, she took her cue from three other guests who excused themselves for bed and did the same. As she stood, Barrett took her hand for the first time all evening, and after thanking Hélène and J.J. for a wonderful meal, he escorted Emily into the house.

She didn't wiggle her hand away because it felt so right and natural to be held by his and because she'd missed his warmth all night. Looking up at the tight set of his jaw as they ascended the stairs, it occurred to her that she had gotten so distracted by their attraction to each other, she wasn't doing a very good job of fulfilling her obligation to him. She was supposed to be his fiancée, someone who would smooth his rough edges and help him make the most of the weekend.

Emily laced her fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze, fascinated to watch his jaw relax and the constricted lines of his face soften from the contact. It made her realize how much he needed her—to be a sounding board and a comfort. She'd offered neither of those things to him since he'd collected her this afternoon. She'd picked fights, needed him to reassure her on their airplane, and concentrated so much of their time in the room on his memories of her, she hadn't even asked about the deal he was here to pursue. She wasn't helping him, she was distracting him, all because her own heart was so affected by him.

Well, she could change things. What Barrett needed right now wasn't a love interest to make him all hot and bothered. What Barrett needed was the sort of woman who could be his friend. And when you love someone, you find out what they need, and you take pleasure in offering it to them the best you can... which is exactly what Emily intended to do.

He opened the door to their room, and she dropped his hand gently as they walked inside, determined not to let the intense sexual tension from the afternoon dominate the small space again. She looked at him in the dim light, turning on the lamp on the bedside table, then reached up to take off her earrings.

"Barrett," she asked, as he stood by the door. "Tell me what I walked into tonight when I interrupted you and J.J. Harrison."

He looked confused for a second, then rubbed his eyes with his fingers, and shrugged out of his jacket. Emily took it from him, walking it to the closet where she found a hanger and hung it up. When she turned around, he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. My head's not in the game."

"What's the game?" she asked, slipping out of her heels and padding to the bathroom where she filled two crystal tumblers with water. She brought one to Barrett before sitting in the chair by the fire and facing him.

He looked at her, his face softening as he held the tumbler. "You can't possibly be interested in this."

"I promise you, I am."

He looked incredulous, but his lips tilted up. "Really?"

"You two looked like you were about to jump each other... and you've been quiet and brooding since."

"I definitely wanted to jump someone, but it wasn't J.J. Harrison."

She flushed, shaking her head at him. "Flirt."