Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,53
Bennett in. “And it was great seeing you again, Scott. Make sure you keep in touch.”
Scott nodded, putting out his hand as a final goodbye but unable to hide his excitement. “I will now I have your number.” He winked, the old Scott making a reappearance.
I assumed it was for Bennett’s benefit, pretending to be the playboy to keep up appearances. But I let it slide, choosing not to say anything as I waved him goodbye. It was only after Scott had left and the door was closed, that Bennett said what I was sure he’d been dying to say.
“You sleeping with him?” His brow popped.
“I could fire you for that,” I deadpanned, knowing if it was anyone else asking it, they’d be gone without a second thought.
A smile broke across Bennett’s face, ignoring the threat of unemployment. “You could, but you won’t. So answer the question.”
“Of course I’m not sleeping with Scott Collins,” I scoffed, a little offended Bennett thought I’d be so easily charmed. “What did you think we did? Go at it on my desk?” Ironic, because that was exactly what I’d done with Jared. “He’s not even my type.”
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Not the sock puppet, Presley. I’m talking about Towering Inferno.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “What does it matter?”
“So that’s an affirmative. You going to make me start being nice to him?” he chuckled. “Because I have to say, Presley, it’s more fun if I jerk him around. Especially now that I know you’re sleeping with him.”
My eyes went to the door half expecting Jared to burst in and I wouldn’t be able to deny it. “I didn’t say I was.”
A loud baritone laugh escaped Bennett’s mouth. “Sweetheart, it’s written all over your face. Your brother know? Please tell me he doesn’t.”
“When did you turn into a gossip?” I punched him in the arm, my small fist barely leaving a mark. “And for the record, nothing is written on my face.”
It was at that moment that Jared walked in, a bag of food hanging from his fingers as he pushed the half-open door. “Hey.” He looked to me and then to Bennett, probably seeing something that wasn’t there.
Great.
I’d avoided one possible misunderstanding and landed in another—karma was a complete bitch.
“Hey! Is that lunch? I’m starved.” I moved closer to Jared, wondering if he was going to flat out ask or just assume the worst.
Bennett moved closer too, his huge body needing only two steps before he was standing beside Jared, his hand landing on his shoulder. “You hurt her and there won’t be enough of you for a funeral. I made the mistake of not getting involved in her personal life once, not making it again.”
Jared’s eyes went to me, the confusion clear. But he didn’t back down either, tipping his chin and meeting Bennett’s gaze. “Guess that’s something we can agree on. And I would never hurt, Presley.”
“Talking about me like I’m not here, isn’t doing either of you any good. Do I need to remind you that I’m more than capable of handling myself?”
I knew I should be annoyed, and part of me was, but not for the reasons I was advertising. I adored Bennett and knew if he ever saw Lewis again, no one else would. And with Jared, well, I had a hunch he’d do the same. But I wasn’t going to be annoyed I had not only one but two men willing to stand up for me. What kind of idiot turns down that kind of support? I just wished I hadn’t needed it.
Both of them turned, Jared locking eyes with me and ignoring the weird vibe in the room. “No need for the reminder. Just letting you know you have back up.”
Bennett grinned like a moron. “Incidentally, if you don’t want people to know you’re sleeping together, you might want to lay off the ass kissing. Dead giveaway. That and that stupid look on your face.”
“Really, B?” I glared, trying to hide my grin. “I thought you agreed to play nice?”
Bennett scoffed, “I didn’t agree to shit.” He looked over at Jared, his smirk barely contained. “And P.S. You might want to tell your boy you’re screwing his sister. Now, what did you get for lunch? It better not have too many carbs, I’m watching my weight.”
Jared didn’t flinch, lifting the bag in his hand. “Well good news then, because I got you a salad. And I’ll tell Tibbs when I’m ready.”