Hell, it was probably a good thing she wasn’t looking for a relationship. If circumstances had been different, he’d totally consider turning their temporary arrangement into something more permanent.
But he couldn’t. His family situation was too delicate at the moment, and God knew he’d caused his parents enough grief over the years. He’d valiantly tried to be the son they needed him to be, until he’d veered off course and started making one selfish decision after the other. With his mom still recovering from her heart attack, he couldn’t afford to be selfish again. His dad would skin him alive if he caused her even a moment’s stress.
As amazing as Brett was, his folks would never approve of her. Tattoos and bad-girl clothing aside, she was also younger than him, and focused on her career rather than getting married and popping out babies. His next relationship needed to be with a woman who was ready to settle down, a woman who could help him give his parents the grandchildren they craved.
After the choices he’d made in the past, he at least owed them that.
“He’s not listening to us.”
Gage’s dry voice lured him back to the meeting in progress.
“Shit. Sorry,” AJ muttered. “My head’s all over the place tonight.”
“I wonder why,” Reed said mockingly.
“Love does that to a man,” Gage piped up.
He stifled a sigh. “So this new supplier,” he prompted, shooting them a pointed look. “What’s his deal again?”
His friends yet again took pity on him and got back to business. Reed began to outline his plan to start stocking the bar with higher-end liquor, exhibiting a savvy business sense that AJ still found jarring. Growing up, Reed had been a troublemaker with a capital T, which was why AJ’s parents had forbidden him from spending time with him. But AJ had stood his ground and continued to see the guy. There’d been something very freeing about Reed’s lust for life and give-them-hell attitude.
Reed also had a good heart, though, and AJ was proud of the mature, responsible man his friend had become. These days Reed was working hard to make Sin a success. So was Gage, who’d been equally rough around the edges when AJ first met him at an MMA bout. But since he’d started dating Skyler, Gage was smiling and laughing a lot more these days.
“We also need to hire a few more bouncers,” Gage was saying. “We can’t get by with one guy manning the door anymore. The line’s getting too long, and the bigger crowds are starting to stir up trouble.”
“Dude, I’m so not complaining that people are lining up to come here,” Reed answered with a grin. “If things keep up this way, we should think about opening another location. Maybe in Portland, or Manhattan.”
“You want to leave Boston?” AJ said in surprise.
“Of course not.” Reed shrugged. “We could hire a manager to run the place. Just something to think about.”
The offhand suggestion reminded AJ of Brett’s current situation, and he hoped for her sake that her father gave her a shot to prove herself. It was plain to see that Jimmy Conlon still viewed Brett as a little girl and not the strong woman she was.
The memory of being tied to Brett’s bed swiftly flashed to mind, and AJ thanked God that his desk concealed the resulting boner that sprang in his pants.
“His eyes are glazing over again. It’s definitely love.”
Once more, he was jolted out of his Brett-centered thoughts. “Jeez,” he grumbled to Reed. “Give it up already.”
Chuckling, his friend stood and tucked his papers under his arm. Gage followed suit, looking equally amused.
“Don’t worry, we’re going.” Reed grinned. “You’ll have all the privacy in the world to jerk off to thoughts of your lady love.”
AJ flipped them his middle finger, but neither man was fazed. They simply left his office in a burst of laughter and another display of gloating, insufferable smirks.
Chapter Nine
Since the club was closed on Mondays, AJ headed to his parents’ place for dinner, armed with a bouquet of white roses for his mom and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s for his dad. He knew they’d appreciate the gesture—his mom loved it when he brought her flowers, and his poor dad was so stressed out playing the part of both bread earner and homemaker that he’d definitely welcome a stiff drink.
As always, when he reached the house, dread and reluctance hardened in his chest like a block of cement.
And as always, the first two emotions triggered an even more unwelcome third.
Guilt.
Bone-crushing guilt.