The Consequence of Seduction (Consequence #3)

“So is it all about the PR?” Her eyes narrowed.

I dipped her back, kissing her soundly. “No, you should know by now. It’s all about you. You deserved the big gesture. Screw the media.”

Jordan burst out laughing as she fingered the cape. “Batman, my ass.”

“Shh.” I kissed her cheek. “It was all I could come up with, otherwise you would have known my plan.”

“Your plan to seduce me by song and cape?”

“Did it work?”

She grinned. “I don’t know. You may have to bring the cape back to the apartment.”

“Still rolling.” Max coughed. “Wrap it up, kids.”

“Wrap this.” I flipped him off.

Max gasped while the crowd chuckled.

“You should know,” Jordan sighed in my arms, “I’m a terrible cook. That’s why I make you fix breakfast. I can do coffee. And I can buy pastries. That’s the extent of my cooking.”

“I know.”

“And I’m messy.”

I laughed. “Believe me, I know that too.”

“And I hate turning off lights!”

“My power bill is very much aware of this sad reality.”

“Still want me?” She smiled shyly.

“Hell, yes.” I kissed her soundly, twirling her in the air, my cape fluttering in the wind, making me feel more Batman than Phantom.

“Anything I should know about you?” she asked once I set her on her feet again. “You know, other than your sad fascination with Star Wars, your inability to seduce without using those aqua eyes, and your aversion to asparagus?”

“Just one thing.” I grinned.

“Hmm?”

I licked my lips, then whispered gruffly in her ear, “I’m Batman.”





EPILOGUE


JASON


I stared down at my phone and tried really hard not to panic. I’d taken a week off work to attend Max’s wedding, thankful that he was finally going to be distracted enough not to meddle in my life like he had everyone else’s. At least now his focus would solely be on his new wife and he’d forget I was even in the picture. During his bachelor party he’d drunkenly pointed a finger in my direction and slurred, “You’re next.”

I prayed to God that the burning sensation I felt in my chest was heartburn and not an actual curse taking root. My friends and family might allow Max his . . . control, but I kept a wide berth and wanted to keep it that way.

My text alert went off for the third time during the reception. When I finally read it, I nearly fell into my cake.



She’s back.



Two simple words.

Words that should have absolutely zero effect on me.

But they did.

Because I knew exactly who she was.

And she, as far as I was concerned, could go to hell.

“Everything okay, man?” Colt slapped me on the back, then took a long swig of beer, his gaze falling on the waves as they crashed against the beach. We were in Bora Bora for the destination wedding, and I should be relaxing, not having a panic attack that felt a hell of a lot like a premature heart attack.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Just . . .” I lifted my phone into the air. “Work.”

“Hmm.” Colt eyed me over his beer. “Unless someone’s actually bombed the town or a Mafia hit man is hiding out in the bushes, work wouldn’t be texting you on vacation.” He swiped my phone from the table before I could grab it, then paled and slid it right back to me.

“And by she . . .” Colt nodded slowly. “I’m guessing—”

“We should be celebrating a wedding and not talking about the chick who broke my heart, then freaking left with our best friend.”

“Still can’t say his name.”

“Doesn’t deserve to be said,” I snapped.

“Easy.” Colt held up his hands in surrender. “So what are you going to do?”

Max and Becca made their way to our table, and they both looked so damn happy I wanted to puke. I used to be that happy. Once upon a time, before the love of my life basically ran over my heart with her Honda Civic.

“Nothing.” I shrugged. “It’s America, she can live wherever the hell she wants.”

“But the rest of the text said . . .”

“I know what it said!” I yelled. I rarely yelled.

Colt stood and walked off.

I didn’t mean to snap at him. I just didn’t want to acknowledge the texts or anything else about my past life.

And I really, really didn’t want to know that she’d had a kid.

And that he looked exactly like her.

Or that she was asking about me.

“Everything cool?” Reid slid in a seat next to me. “Colt seems pissed.”

“He’s not having sex.” I nodded. “Max is exhausting all his groomsmen.”

“I hate Max,” Reid said in a bored tone, lifting his beer bottle in the air in a fake salute to his brother. “But I do love free trips to Bora Bora.”