One Night of Trouble

He choked down a laugh.

“—and then expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows and sparkly silver unicorns! And you know what? I don’t need you to be my boyfriend anymore. I’ll just tell my family that you ended up being a total jerk—and guess what, dude, it won’t even be a lie!”

She stomped to the desk to grab her purse, shoved the strap over her shoulder, and stomped back to the door.

“I am so frickin’ pissed right now,” she announced. “And FYI? After I get home and finish constructing a voodoo doll of you? I’m going to make myself come a million times. No, a gazillion times.”

He arched one brow. “No, you won’t.”

“Don’t you dare give me that smug, self-righteous look. I’m not playing your little mind games, okay?” She flung open the door. “Have yourself a good night, AJ.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called after her.

“No, you won’t,” she said without turning around.

He was still smiling as she flew out the door.





Chapter Seven


“Hey, you made it!” Rob said happily, his dark eyes focused on the man who’d just strolled through the back gate like he owned the place.

Oh no he di-int.

Brett’s jaw hit the freshly mowed lawn of her father’s backyard as her gaze collided with AJ.

AJ.

Frickin’ AJ.

Disbelief, anger, and an infuriating burst of joy erupted inside her as the man who’d tormented her yesterday approached the patio table where she sat with her dad and brothers. What the hell was he doing here? She’d made herself clear last night. So clear she might as well have hired a plane to write the words in the sky—their arrangement was over. Kaput. Dunzo. After the stunt he’d pulled, she wanted nothing more to do with the jerk.

Liar. Of course you do.

Brett silenced the internal voice, choosing instead to shoot her deepest, meanest scowl in AJ’s direction. When she noticed how good he looked, her irritation only doubled. The guy was wearing khakis, for Pete’s sake, all preppy-like with his white T-shirt and flawless blond hair and clean-shaven jaw. She wasn’t supposed to find him appealing, damn it. The boy-next-door type had never done it for her in the past.

Boy next door. The description lingered in her head, triggering the urge to snort aloud. Ha. Boy next door, her ass. AJ Walsh was the devil.

She still couldn’t believe he’d lured her to the club last night, brought her to the orgasmic edge, and then asked her to leave. All so he could indulge in his little—what had he called it? Right. An exercise in anticipation.

Well, double ha. He’d been on a power trip, plain and simple. He’d wanted to see how far and how hard he could push her, and if there was one thing Brett Conlon didn’t appreciate, it was being pushed around.

“Sorry, I’m late,” AJ told the group. “My GPS took me on a crazy route. It doesn’t seem to understand what one-way street means.”

“Well, I’m glad you found the place all right,” Rob said, sticking out his arm so the two men could exchange a fist bump.

“I thought you had to work,” Brett spoke up tightly, her cloudy expression leaving no doubt as to how she felt about this unwanted intrusion.

“Nope, turns out Reed and Gage can handle the inventory on their own,” he answered, his lie coming out as effortlessly as hers. “I tried to call you for directions, but I think your phone’s dead. So I grabbed Rob’s cell number off the Conlon Ink website, and luckily he got back to me quick-fast.”

“Yes, how lucky,” she muttered.

Brett set down the burger she’d been holding. Her appetite had vanished. She felt like diving out of her chair and kicking AJ in the shin, but the new Brett wasn’t allowed to lose her temper. Especially when her father was gazing at AJ with blatant approval.

Her dad raised his massive body out of his chair and extended a hand. “Jimmy Conlon. And you must be the man who’s dating my daughter.”

“Yes, sir. I’m AJ.”

“Can it with this sir business. Call me Jimmy.”

The two men exchanged a hearty handshake, and unlike Brett’s previous boyfriends, AJ didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by her father’s size.

At six four, with his bushy red beard, muscular chest, and multitude of tattoos, her dad painted an imposing picture. God knew Troy had been scared shitless the first time he’d seen him.

“Nice to meet you, Jimmy,” AJ said easily. “I hear I made you some money back in the day.”

Jimmy’s mouth stretched in a wide grin. “Ten grand, son. You helped pay off the mortgage.”

AJ grinned back. “Glad I could be of assistance.” He turned to the other two men at the large, round table. “Jordan, right?” he said to the younger one. “I remember you from high school.”