Dirty Little Secret (Forbidden Desires #1)

Cooper

“How are you feeling?” I helped Emma through the front door and held her forearm as she slipped off her high heels.

“Mmm, good.” She nodded more eagerly than necessary, like she was trying hard to convince me. I knew she was drunk, and I felt bad for introducing her to my favorite vodka. “It’s freezing in here, though.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in her pretty emerald lace dress.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Every woman I’d ever brought home complained about the exact same thing. It appeared the fairer sex didn’t appreciate my fondness for sixty-six-degree air-conditioning. It was a luxury I grew up without, and I now tended to overindulge. “Hang tight. I’ll get you a sweatshirt.”

I left Emma roaming through the oversized foyer, admiring the art that hung on the walls, and headed to the master bedroom.

“And turn up the heat,” she shouted from behind me.

“Yes, ma’am.”This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Moments later, I handed her my softest gray sweatshirt.

“Harvard?” she asked, pushing her arms through the oversized sleeves.

I shook my head. “I didn’t go there, if that’s what you’re wondering. Didn’t have the money. Or the grades for college.”

“Did you want to go?”

“Of course.”

“You could,” she said, nodding at me. “Go back now.”

I shrugged. “I’m twenty-eight, and I do well for myself. There’s really no need now.”

As I spoke, Emma wandered around my loft, acquainting herself with the space. Trailing her fingertips along the exposed-brick wall in the living room, she stopped at the wall of windows that led out to the balcony.

“You can see everything from here,” she said.

Sliding up behind her, I placed my hands on her waist. I told myself it was just to steady her, but it really was only an excuse to touch her. She looked damn cute in her formal gown and my favorite sweatshirt.

Emma turned to face me. Her eyes were full of questions, and in that moment, I wished I had all the answers.

“You all right?”

She nodded, her eyes huge pools of brilliant blue. “Just tipsy.”

I steered her toward the kitchen. “Sit right here.” I helped her onto a stool at the breakfast bar and fired up my coffee maker.

Moments later, I handed her a white porcelain mug of steaming coffee. “A few sips of this, you’ll be good as new.”

“Will you show me around?” she asked.

“Yes. If you drink your coffee.”

“So bossy,” she murmured. “I thought that was Gavin’s role.”

Her remark made me smirk, but she took a long pull from the mug. Then she rose to her feet, happy to follow me through my apartment like a little child, eager for answers.

She stopped in front of a photo in the hall. “Is that you and Barbara Walters?”

“She’s from Brookline, and we used to watch 20/20 as kids.”

“Did she cover kid-friendly stories?”

“Definitely not, but our life wasn’t kid-friendly to begin with.”

She moved down the hall to another photo of Gavin, me, and Marchand, the Bruins’ left wing. “You two look so alike and so different.”

I knew what she meant. We shared a lot of similar features, but where I was usually content or smiling, Gavin was reserved and icy. Even in the pictures hanging on my walls, that much was evident. Gavin rarely smiled for a photo.

I steered Emma toward my bedroom, which was usually the last stop on the tour.

“Do you and Gavin hang out a lot?”

She was so cute and so obvious, I had to laugh, even though I hoped she’d forget about Gavin for a minute and focus on what was right in front of her. I didn’t get her attraction to him, but the fact remained that if she wanted him, I wouldn’t stand in the way.

“You could say that.”

“Books!” she shouted, cutting me off and running to the tall cases that held dozens of books. She rubbed her index finger across the spines. Almost all my books were classics, leather-bound with gold-embossed titles.

“You’re a hilarious drunk.”

Emma shot me a restrained smirk. “I could see why there’s no point in you going to college, you read it all anyway. Did Gavin go to college?”

I removed my suit coat and hung it in the closet, unable to answer another Gavin question for a moment. She abandoned the books and came over to sit on my bed, demanding an answer.

“Nope. Neither did Quinn.” I removed my cuff links, setting them on the wooden tray on the dresser, and began to unbutton my dress shirt.

She scooted back toward the tufted headboard, her little feet reaching only the middle of the king-sized bed.

“This is so cozy. I would die for a bed like this.” When she rolled face-first into a pillow and inhaled, I resisted the urge to chuckle at her again.

I pulled my dress shirt off to reveal a tight plain white tee. I savored watching Emma’s eyes watching me as I undressed. She wanted my brother . . . for now. I had to remember that if he could make himself worthy of her, I wanted that for him. But if he was determined to sink the whole fucking thing?

Well, there was no reason Emma couldn’t get a look at what she was missing in the meantime.

“My phone,” Emma said, and tried to rise from the bed at the pinging sound coming from the other room.

“I got it, princess. Is it in your purse?” I finished removing my belt and rolled it, then placed it in the belt drawer.

“Yes, thank you.” She settled back into the pillows and curled into a ball.

When I handed her the bag, she fished out her phone.

“It’s Gavin.” She sounded unsure and stared down at the phone for a few seconds. “I’m not going to text him back,” she announced triumphantly, clearly satisfied with herself.

“And why not?” Because you’re here with me, happy and in my bed?

“I think he probably had the wrong number.” Emma drew her brows together and tossed the phone down beside her.

“Why, what did it say?” This was intriguing, and pissed me off because it was late and he couldn’t possibly have a need for her now. Moreover, he knew she was out with me tonight.

Emma stared at her phone. “It says, where’s my toy? So, he must have meant it for someone else who lost something.”

Did Emma believe that bullshit? Since she clearly didn’t know Gavin at all, perhaps I should clue her in. “You’re the toy, Emma. He expects you to fall all over him. He’s a dick like that.”

I watched Emma’s expression fall as I spoke, wishing I could take it back instantly. Fuck. Why did I say all that? What the hell was the matter with me? I’d decided from the start that Emma would be perfect for Gavin, if only he would open up to the experience. But, damn it, if he couldn’t live up to the task? Maybe it was time to start looking out for guy who could.

Namely, me.

She let out a soft oh. That information seemed to deflate her.

I sat down on the bed next to her, moving in closer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly.

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m glad you told me the truth.”

“Need anything else, princess?” I asked as I reluctantly removed my hands from her delicate shoulders.

“I’m all right.” She looked again at her phone as if she was hoping for another message.

“You like Gavin,” I said and held my breath, begging silently for her to convince me otherwise.

“He’s arrogant and controlling,” she blurted before pausing to take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. He’s my boss, and frankly, I’m grateful for the extra money and what he’s done for the library.”

I pressed my lips together and waited as Emma paused.

“I guess you’re my boss too, but you’re so easy to be around. I can really be myself.”

“Well, you’re off the clock now and with a friend,” I said.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Still cold?” I asked as I wrapped an arm around her .

She sank against me in response, resting her cheek on my chest and snuggling in. “I’m glad you brought me here.”

“I couldn’t have you going home and getting sick alone. I felt bad for letting you drink so much.”

She raised her head from its resting spot. “I’m not sick.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you want me to take you home now?”

She shook her head. “I’m not ready to go just yet. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

We rose from the bed and I led her toward the master bathroom.

“Oh my word!” She gasped. “Cooper, you’re in trouble. You’ve been holding out on me.”

Emma’s voice echoed around the walls. Her eyes widened as she took in the glass two-person shower, spa tub, and double vanity. My bathroom was over-the-top, and I made no apologies for that. It was complete with its own chandelier and an overstuffed armchair.

Emma climbed into the empty bathtub, fully clothed. “This is incredible.”

“Can I run you a bath?” I chuckled at her.

“Really?”

“Why not? So long as you’re not feeling too buzzed still?”

“Oh yes, please,” she replied eagerly. “I feel a lot better. Wow, what a treat.”

“You crack me up.” I leaned down to lift her small body from the bath. “Mint or lavender?”

“Lavender, please.”

After filling the tub and adding the apothecary scents, I brought her a long white tee shirt and a pair of boxers. “Towels are in there.” I pointed to the glass cabinet in the corner, trying not to die of a throbbing hard-on at the thought of Emma Bell in my fucking bathtub. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me, princess.”

As I closed the door, I had to laugh.

Karma was a bitch.