Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,77

I’ll be needing it now.

Holt comes over to my chair and says quietly, “No hard feelings about this morning or the last few weeks. I want what’s best for the firm.”

“Bullshit.”

Before I can respond further, my gaze tugs past him to the doors.

Daisy walks in wearing a black sequined dress with a deep V neckline, her hair long with a sharp edge. The burning in my gut from the day eases a few degrees.

There’s no one else in the room as she makes her way toward our table, escorted by one of the waitstaff.

Holt’s blundering on, and I barely hear him.

“Holt, excuse the interruption,” Daisy says easily, flashing a smile at Holt as she steps between us, tugging me away.

My gaze sweeps her entire figure, from the red slicked lips to her curves under the black dress to her dark, lined eyes.

“You look stunning.” My voice is remarkably smooth for what I’m feeling.

“You too.”

I don’t say how much pleasure that brings me. How the world feels a little lighter, a little more right now that she’s here. I lean in to murmur in her ear, loving the little intake of breath my closeness causes, “Tell me something good. Please.”

She pulls back to peer at me, eyes shining with emotions I can't name. “When you look at me, I can’t think. But I don't want to.”

I take her hand, her warm skin making mine hum. I flip her palm and press a kiss to it.

We’re keeping up appearances. There’s no point on my end since Xavier and Holt have already decided I’m not worthy.

But it doesn’t matter because I want her with me after this arrangement is over.

This month, I’ve realized the only thing better than having a best friend is being in love with her.

I want Daisy to be mine—not only at video games or brunch, to share jokes or to vent frustrations.

I want her in my bed. In my life. In my heart.

We make the rounds and she’s the dutiful girlfriend, charming the attendees and asking pointed questions of the politicians in attendance.

My arm is around her the entire time, and not a bit of it is pretend.

We finally greet Xavier, who seems affable for someone who said he had no confidence in me this morning. “Daisy, you look lovely. What a wonderful reception. Ben,” he says lightly, his gaze landing on me, “you could at least pretend to be having a good time.”

I’m standing straight, my hand tightened into a fist, because his civility chafes.

The whole reason Daisy and I wound up together was for tonight, for him, and he’s considering handing the firm over to Holt.

I pull him aside, lowering my voice. “I have worked my ass off to make this company money, and to be what you wanted. I hope that you’re not seriously thinking of putting Holt in your chair because of one mistake. He couldn’t run a lemonade stand.”

I tug Daisy out into the hall, not once looking back until we’re back in the vaulted foyer that’s empty now save for security at the door, and a couple of late stragglers drifting through to the ballroom.

"Ben, what’s going on?" Daisy asks, concerned as she peers up at me.

I clench my jaw, torn between kissing her and spilling my guts about what just happened, how fucking blindsided I feel.

I tell her about the deal and her eyes widen in shock and dismay. “I’m so sorry.”

“Maybe I did fuck up,” I bite out, frustrated. “I wanted this deal more than I wanted to do the right thing.”

“Mistakes happen. We all have lapses in judgment.”

“No,” I say, letting out a half laugh. “Not you. From the first night we spent together you’ve been the only thing that’s true. You’ve stood by me always and I thought we were friends, but that’s not enough for me.”

I cup her face in my hands, needing to touch her, needing her steadiness to ground me.

“I’ve tried to deny it, but I can’t and I don’t want to. I love you. I'm in love with you.”

Daisy’s face is pale, her eyes shining.

She presses her lips together while my heart thuds under my tux.

“Ben, I love you too.”

Hope soars through me, soothing the battered feelings of betrayal and frustration.

“But I need to tell you something. I can’t have it between us anymore.”

Concern twines with surprise as I press my forehead to hers. “Tell me anything. Everything.”

I don’t want her to stress. There’s nothing she could say to erase the joy of saying those