Home > The Diary of Brad De Luca (Innocence #1.5)(8)

The Diary of Brad De Luca (Innocence #1.5)(8)
Author: Alessandra Torre

He was sitting there, thirty minutes later, a tennis ball in hand, his cell phone positioned in the crook of his neck, when he heard a sound, and looked over his shoulder to see five feet eight inches of furious beauty.

Possessiveness didn’t seem to go over well with Julia. Didn’t make her heart fawn, pale cheeks blush, create oh-lucky-me stars in her eyes. She was pissed and spelled out her emotions clearly, despite the sway in her step and the haze over her eyes.

“You made it very clear that you didn’t want a relationship. Yet you ran off Bob. Yet you told Todd to stay away from me. You are not my father, you are not my boyfriend, you are not my boss. You don’t have the right to f**k with my life!”

So Todd had told her. Not that he was surprised. Based on the look she was giving him, she seemed capable of strangling the information out of a man. He stepped closer, close enough to smell her, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her skin, cataloguing every line, curve, quiver of her breath. It had been over two weeks. He had almost forgotten how incredible she was. “Do you like Todd this much? Is that what this is about?” His eyes watched her closely, very interested in her response. She couldn’t like him—not that boy who skipped between offices, his innocence practically painted on like a billboard sign. Todd wasn’t good enough, strong enough, or man enough for her.

“That’s not the point. The point is if I did really like Todd, or Bob, or someone else, I don’t need you walking around, scaring the hell outta people. That’s not your place. It’s like you don’t want me, and you don’t want anyone else to have me. That’s bullshit, especially because you’re the f**king town slut!”

“Who says I don’t want you?” He stepped forward, the air quivering between them, her eyes dropping, letting him fully examine her without risk of being caught. The flutter in her neck, the swell of her lips, the flush of delicate skin. He suddenly needed to see her eyes, needed a drink of the woman he had been without. His hand forced her chin up, and their eyes met. There was a shake in hers, vulnerability, almond pools of what looked like fear. Then she blinked, and they came to life, a tiger curving through their depths and snarling at him.

She pushed at his hand. “Okay, I misspoke. It’s like you don’t want to date me exclusively. God, I forgot I was talking to an attorney and had to clarify everything.”

“Let’s go to dinner.” He cursed the words as soon as they left his mouth. He had been free of her, and now he was digging his own grave … again. Wrestling his body into rich dirt where he would be eaten alive by scavengers.

“I already ate.” Her stomach growled, and her eyes dared him to mention it.

“Then tomorrow night.”

“I already have plans.”

Her quick response gave him pause. Maybe it wasn’t just Todd he had to worry about. He tightened his hands, balling them into fists. Fine. He had asked; she had answered. He stepped away, giving his lungs time to recharge, to recover from the erotic impact that was Julia Campbell’s scent. He heard her on the phone, and looked up when she finished.

“My friend’s picking me up.”

He answered without thinking, his words careless, given her volatile state. “A guy or a girl friend?”

She threw her phone at him, a pathetic throw, and one he avoided easily. He laughed, her temper entertaining, and watched her eyes glitter; her body tightened with fury as she picked up the phone, then marched over to the driveway and headed back to the front of the house.

He controlled his laughter, jogging up to her, her heels skittering on the cobblestone drive, his arms catching her twice when she stumbled. She forged on, ungrateful for the saves, her focus on the front porch, which she flung her butt down on without a second glance at him.

He moved in front of her seated form, her arms tight around her legs, her face stubbornly avoiding his.

“Look, I’m sorry I said anything to Todd. That wasn’t my place.” The words caught in his throat, then wormed their way through his vocal cords and out of his mouth. He didn’t know why he was apologizing to this woman. He should be back inside, in the cool air of his home, banging the shit out of the blonde in his bed. He wasn’t sorry for speaking to Todd. She had no business going out with him. No business wasting her time on a child. And, if he could have it his way, she wouldn’t waste her time with anyone but him.

“And to Bob.”

“And to Bob. Though I didn’t really say anything to Bob.” No, that weakling had run out of her life with one stern glance from Brad.

She grumbled through her purse. “No, you just sucked all the air out of my office and stared him down like he was a rogue agent.”

Brad sighed and sat down on the step. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. For no other reason than he felt like an ass and she was there. Despite his personal attraction to her, he shouldn’t have spoken to Todd—should have let their possible relationship play out, and stayed on task, continued working. Then he wouldn’t have opened this box, wouldn’t have her at his house, a foot away, her presence invading and wiping his brain clear of rational thoughts. Reminding him of what he didn’t have, and couldn’t control.

She spoke again, her words taking a new direction. “And you told Todd that fraternizing with coworkers was bad business? What about f**king clients? Did you include that in your business advice? And you can’t even talk about fraternizing with coworkers! Seriously, did you choke on your own bullshit?”

His jaw tightened, anger flooding through him. “Okay, Julia, you’ve made your point—I’m an ass**le. I was out of line. I have apologized. I’m not going to sit here and have you chastise me like I’m a child. I’m not used to not getting what I want. I’m not used to being told I can’t have something. I’m sorry if it pissed me off to see someone else getting you so easily.” He stood up. Fuck this. Fuck this girl who made bullshit come from his mouth. Fuck her small body following him, grabbing his arm, her proximity making him hard.

“I’m not a f**king object! I’m not something that you can choose to have, or choose to toss away. Does it even matter to you what I want?”

He looked down at her hand, which gripped his bicep, wanting to remove it, to break the hold that she had on him. Then he looked at her eyes, the mere connection with them causing his breath to catch, weakness to clutch his heart and squeeze it tight.

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