Best of Intentions: A Best Friend's Brother Standalone Romance Read online

  “Finish? Uncle Nate, just give up. I’m just gonna beat you!”

  “You’re that sure, huh?” She nods. “Well, I guess you better go and play then!” She wraps my legs in a big hug before moving to hug Jenny next. She hesitates a second, and right when I think she’s about to run off, she hugs Jamie, too. The hell?

  In the wake of Tatum’s departure, the already tense atmosphere turns stifling. For reasons I’m not sure I’m willing to admit, I want to demand for Jenny to tell me who in the hell Jamie is to her.

  “Sooo,” Jenny drawls, bringing me out of my thoughts. “It was good seeing you again, Nate.” And just like that, she walks away.

  Jamie extends his hand to me again, but like the petulant child I apparently am, I ignore it. “Right,” he murmurs, sounding like he knows something I don’t—which just pisses me off more. “I would say it was nice to meet you, but…” He trails off and follows after Jenny.

  I keep my eyes trained on him until he reaches her, and when he slips his arm around her narrow waist and shoots me a wink over his shoulder, I have to clench my fists and pinch my eyes shut to remain calm.

  Determined to ignore the way Jenny’s presence is affecting me, I make my way over to my parents, who are seated under the huge shade umbrella Alden has cranked open. I greet them both with a nod before pulling over a chair for myself.

  “Nathaniel Reynolds,” my mother scolds in that voice only moms have. “You better give me a better greeting than a shake of your head.”

  I bite back my smile at her gentle rebuke. I’m damn near thirty years old, and yet, she can still put me in my place like I’m twelve.

  I step away from my chair and over to her. “Sorry, Mom.” I bend at the waist and wrap my arms around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Before taking a seat, I go ahead and shake my dad’s hand as well. “How have y’all been?”

  “Good, son, good,” Dad answers, bringing his drink to his lips.

  I look from him to my mother, knowing she will elaborate. “Busy as can be with little Miss Tatum. I honestly don’t know what we’re going to do when she starts kindergarten in the fall.”

  As hard as it was for all of us when Natalie became a mother before she even received her high school diploma, our mom lives for being a Nana.

  “I know that’ll be a tough transition for y’all,” I say absentmindedly, scanning the crowd, not looking for Jenny. The fact that my eyes land on her is nothing more than a coincidence. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself, because after searching her out, I wish like hell I wouldn’t have, because watching her laugh at something my best friend said with her head resting on Jamie’s chest as he plays with her hair, sparks a fire in my gut that feels a whole lot like jealousy.

  Noticing my shift in mood, Mom wastes no time calling me on it. “What’s got you looking so sour?”

  With a rough shake of my head, I mutter, “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing,” she says softly, laying her hand on mine.

  My initial instinct is to throw my guard up and snap, and if it were anyone else but my mother, I would. But this woman is an angel on earth, so I dial it back. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Sometimes talking it through helps.”

  I flip my hand so that we’re palm-to-palm and give hers a quick squeeze. “I appreciate it, but now isn’t the time or place.”

  She follows my line of sight and nods knowingly. “You probably don’t even realize this, son, but the entire time we’ve been talking, you’ve been glaring at sweet little Jenny. Is she what has you all sour and grumpy?”

  Damn intuitive woman.

  I start to reply, but my dad steps in. “Melanie, let the boy be.” Hell yeah, Dad for the win. “He can come by for dinner one night this week and y’all can gossip then.” Never mind—thanks for nothing, Pops.

  “Smart thinking.” She turns from my dad to me, pinning me with her mom-eyes. “What night are you free?”

  “Uhhh.” I grab at the back of my neck, rubbing at the tightness there as I mentally go through my schedule. “How’s Tuesday night?”

  “Absolutely perfect.” Fun times.

  Twenty minutes later, Natalie is rounding everyone up for cake and presents. I’m not even gonna lie, this is my favorite part of kids’ parties. Watching my niece’s eyes light up as she tears into each brightly wrapped package just does something to me—and also, cake, because, well, cake.

  And Tatum’s is no disappointment, assuming it tastes even half as good as it looks. I try my hardest not to stare Jenny down as Alden lights the candles on the cake, but it is a futile effort at best. My eyes are drawn to her, seemingly of their own accord.

  Normally, I’d have no problem enjoying the scenery, so to speak, but watching her with Jamie—all of their small touches and private laughs—has me ready to Hulk the fuck out.

  Once we’ve sung “Happy Birthday” and Tatum’s blown out her candles, Natalie and Alden set to work cutting and distributing slices of cake. I take the plate my sister offers me and make my way over to one of the many folding tables they have set up in the yard.

  One bite in, and I realize the cake is even better than it looks, and judging from the lack of chatter, the rest of the partygoers agree. I’m on my third bite when a shadow falls over me. My eyes shoot up to see who’s joining me. Of course, it’s none other than Jenny, her boy toy in tow.

  They take their seats, murmuring to one another in hushed whispers, all but ignoring my presence entirely. I try my best to do the same, but I still find myself straining to listen in on whatever it is they’re talking about. This woman has me acting insane…I’m eavesdropping like a child, for Christ’s sake.

  “Are you having a good time?” she whispers, leaning into him.

  “Anytime with you is a good time, Jenny-cake,” he replies, and I think I throw up a little in my mouth. Jenny-cake, what the fuck…

  She giggles like a schoolgirl. “Ever the charmer.” She forks a bite of cake into her mouth, leaving a dot of icing at the corner of her lips. When he reaches over and rubs it away with his thumb, I can’t take it a second longer.

  “Should you be eating that?” I ask her, my tone hard. Shit, that didn’t come out right.

  Jenny swallows and lowers her fork. “Excuse me?”

  I nod down to the slice of sugary sweetness on her plate. “The cake. Is it something you should be eating?”

  She blinks a few times as if stunned by my question. “I’m sorry, but—” she starts, but Jamie covers her hand with his and takes over.

  “And why shouldn’t she eat it?” Jamie pins me with a fierce glare. “I’m enjoying a slice and so are you—what makes her any different?”

  “Maybe the fact that she’s dia—” I stop short, knowing I’d be crossing a line if I finished that sentence. Her health and her body are just that—hers, and it’s damn sure not my business to spread the knowledge I have of it around to other people.

  Even without me spitting the rest of my words out, Jenny gets where I was going. With a tight smile, she breathes in deeply. “While I appreciate your concern, I assure you that I know what I can and cannot eat. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

  Jamie’s eyes ping back and forth between us, like he’s watching the Williams sisters burn up the tennis court.

  “Just looking out for you,” I murmur, hoping she hears my sincerity.

  But judging from her eye roll, it fell on deaf ears. “Oh, well, lucky me. Whatever would I do without you looking out for me?” Her words have a bite to them, and damn if they don’t pinch a little.

  I hold up my hands in a sign of surrender. “Look, I’m not trying to fight with you or micromanage you.” Somehow, every word out of my mouth seems to be wrong, and I’m only digging the hole I’m in deeper.

  Jenny tosses her fork down and pushes her plate away from her. “Are you okay?” Jamie asks, looking at her so tenderly that my jaw clenches.

  “Mm. Fine. I’ve just lost my appet
ite is all.”

  An internal war is waging—while I know this isn’t the time or place, the urge to call her on the way she’s acting is strong. Too strong. “The hell’s your problem?” I demand on a harsh exhale.

  She gets this sort of crazed look in her eyes, like she’s contemplating using the tines of her plastic fork to stab me. This time when Jamie grabs her hand, I’m mildly grateful. “You wanna know what my problem is? Oh, Nate, are you sitting comfortably? Because the list is freaking long.”

  I gesture for her to elaborate.

  “Simply put: you. You’re my problem. You’re a boy masquerading as a man. I don’t know who hurt you, but let me just tell you, hurting others isn’t the answer. You think you’re God’s gift to women and that after one taste, we all become Nate-junkies. Well, newsflash, asshole—as it turns out, one taste of you is plenty. You’re nothing but an arrogant, cocky playboy. You weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t the man for me—you’re too into yourself to ever be the right man for anyone. Honestly, at this point, I don’t know what I ever saw in you.

  “And yeah, Nate, for a long time I did have a crush on you. Stupidly, I had you on some pedestal, but my eyes are wide open now, and I see you for exactly what you are. The fact that you’re so incredibly shallow really is the icing on the proverbial cake. Have a nice day, because I’m done.”

  With that, Jenny shoves her chair back from the table and stalks off toward the house. Jamie shakes his head at me, a snide smirk playing on his lips. “You really are a dumbass, aren’t you?” And with those parting remarks, I’m left alone at the table with all of Jenny’s words swirling in my gut and guilt swimming in my veins.

  chapter eleven

  Nate

  After Jenny storms off with Jamie hot on her heels, I keep my ass planted in my seat, sulking, even when Tatum begins opening her gifts. The smile on her face as she rips into the colorful packages is almost enough to ease the sting of Jenny’s words. To know that she thinks so little of me, especially when I think she’s one of the most magnificent women I’ve ever met…I’m not going to lie, it hurts.

  Then again, she doesn’t know I feel that way—and she never will. My walls are impenetrable, and they exist far more for her benefit than mine. Knowing that my actions hurt her makes me feel about two inches tall. But I also know that in the long run, I’m saving her from a fate far worse. I know what I’m capable of, and I’d rather a small pain now than utter devastation later. And surely that’s where we would end, with me absolutely decimating one of the kindest, most pure women I’ve ever met.

  I can’t do it. I won’t. Like I keep saying, Jenny Jones deserves better than me. Hell, all women deserve better than me.

  “Uncle Nate!” The sound of Tatum hollering my name draws me out of my inner turmoil. I look up to see her running toward me with the American Girl doll I bought her wrapped tightly in her arms. “I love her! She looks just like me!”

  Damn straight she does—I paid a pretty penny to customize the thing. “Yeah? You think she’s pretty cool?”

  “She’s the best! I’ll love her forever!”

  I pull my niece onto my lap. “Do you have a name picked out for her?”

  Tatum nods her head. “Heather Lo. ’Cause of my two best friends from the liberry. Nana takes me for story day, and we always sit together.”

  “That is the best name ever,” I assure her. “You know, right after Tatum.”

  She slings one arm around my neck and presses a kiss to my scruffy cheek. “Thank you, Uncle Nate. You’re my most favorite uncle ever in the whole big world!”

  I squeeze her to me before releasing her. “I’m your only uncle, Tater Tot, but you’re welcome all the same. Happy Birthday!”

  I kick back farther into my seat as she runs off to finish opening her gifts. As much as I want to focus my undivided attention on my niece, my eyes seek out Jenny. She’s like a fucking lighthouse beacon, drawing my eyes to craggy rocks of the shore, and yet I’m helpless to change my course, even knowing that pure annihilation awaits me.

  As the party winds down, my indignation over Jenny’s assessment of me battles with my conscience. On one hand, it was my actions that led her to feel the way she does. But, on the other, I hate that I feel even a modicum of guilt, because really, I was only looking out for her. Add in the jealousy twinging just beneath my skin from seeing her with Jamie, and I’m a goddamn mess. I’m torn between snubbing her, groveling, and throwing her over my shoulder like a caveman while declaring “Jenny, mine!”

  Jesus, I need a drink.

  Thankfully, Alden and Natalie had the foresight to supply beer for all of the adults at this kiddie shindig. I vacate my seat and set off for the cooler. I dig around in the ice, but only manage to find soft drinks, bottles of water, and juice boxes. Definitely not what I’m after.

  “Good stuff’s in the kitchen,” Alden murmurs as he walks past me, trailing after Tatum as she drags him over to play some game.

  “Thanks,” I call after him as I turn and head into the house.

  Once inside, I pull open the fridge door to find a mecca. Leave it to the foodies to go all out on the beer selection for their four-year-old’s party—not that I’m complaining. I snag a bottle of my favorite lager, shut the door, and grab the magnetic bottle opener from the side of the refrigerator. Over the pop-hiss-clink, I hear the back door open again.

  Jenny.

  Don’t ask me how I know it’s her without even looking—I just do. I can feel it, as batshit as that sounds. Swear, if anyone ever told me they could feel someone’s presence, I would laugh my ass off, and yet, here I am.

  I pivot and lean back against the counter to the right of the fridge. We lock eyes in a wordless battle, neither of us willing to back down. The temptation to skim my gaze down her body is strong, but I won’t look away—I can’t.

  Bringing the bottle to my lips, I drink down two swallows. The fact that her eyes momentarily drop to my throat as I swallow doesn’t escape my notice, but I let it go. As I pull the bottle away, a little droplet of beer lingers on my lip. Slowly, I swipe the tip of my tongue over it, drawing my lip into my mouth.

  Her chest expands as her breathing accelerates, a needy look painting her pretty features, like she’s remembering every second of our night together. Turned on is a good look on her.

  We remain engaged in our silent clash of wills, both far too stubborn to back down. Honestly, I’d love nothing more than to go to her and make her talk to me. I don’t like the tension that lingers between us, even if I am the cause of it.

  “Fuck it,” I mumble to myself, breaking the spell.

  “What was that?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

  “Can we talk?” I ask, pushing off of the counter.

  Her nervous gaze flits around the kitchen as if she’s looking for someone to jump out and save her. Speaking of, where is Jamie, her little guard dog?

  She gives me a hesitant nod, and I gesture for her to follow me. I guide her into the living room at the front of the house. I take a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to me, shocked and delighted when she actually drops down next to me.

  For as compatible as we are in the bedroom, we really couldn’t be more different. Whereas I sit with my body angled toward hers, my legs spread wide, elbows resting on my knees, and my beer bottle dangling from my fingertips, she sits with her feet tucked up under her, as if she’s trying to take up as little space as possible.

  “What do you want to talk about, Nate?” she demands to know, her strong voice filling the space her small body doesn’t. Damn, how far she’s come from the unsure, nervous girl I met not so long ago. Not gonna lie, her bark is every bit as sexy as her bite. “Or did you just want to stare at me?”

  “GG, while you’re absolutely something to behold, I actually do have something to say.”

  Her eyes widen, and she motions for me to get on with it. Sexy, infuriating, impatient woman.

  “Look, I think we need to
talk about that night.”

  Her spine straightens. “What exactly do you think we need to talk about?” she asks, her tone ice cold. I go to answer her, but she cuts me off. “You wanna talk about what it felt like for me to wake up to an empty bed?”

  “Jenny…I…you knew—” I can’t seem to collect my words, which is BS since I asked her to talk. My lack of intelligible reply doesn’t matter though, because it seems my good girl has more to say.

  “What I know is that I shared something with you that night that I’ve shared with very few others.” Her chest heaves, and I can’t help but wonder what in the hell she’s talking about. I know she wasn’t a virgin, so what exactly did she fucking share with me? “I let you in, and…and you just left. You were so repulsed by what you saw that you just left.” Her big, doe eyes fill with tears and my heart constricts in my chest. I may not have a clue what she’s upset over, but whatever it is, I caused it and the look on her face is absolutely gutting me.

  Hold. The. Hell. On. “Repulsed? Jenny, what are you talking about?”

  She shakes her head, willing herself not to cry. Unable to sit back idly and watch her hurt, I set my beer down onto the table next to the couch and reach for her, drawing her small body into mine. I’m fully expecting her to reject me, so when she melts into me, I pull her closer, so that she’s practically sitting on my lap sidesaddle.

  “Shh,” I whisper into her hair as I run the pads of my fingers over the sliver of exposed skin at the small of her back. “It’s okay, GG. I’ve got you.”

  With her wrapped in my arms, I keep whispering to her. “You’re so beautiful, Jenny. I could never be repulsed by you. Talk to me, tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

  She sniffles a few times and pulls back to look at me. “I knew it was a one-time thing, that’s not why I’m upset.” She rushes the words out. It’s what she follows up with that metaphorically knocks me on my ass. “You saw my pump, and I told you about my diabetes, and then it was like you couldn’t wait to escape it.”