Page 2 of Contentious

“I’ll text the others,” Julian said.

Carson gave his brother a quick nod and held the passenger door of his silver Range Rover for Cresley.

Tension beat through him as he drove toward the garage exit. “I’m sorry about this. I’d understand if you wanted me to drop you off to rejoin the parties. You don’t need to be caught up in our family shit.”

“Only if you want privacy.”

“That’s a moot point after TMZ put the story on blast.”

“Then I’m happy to support you the way you’ve supported me recently.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Let me help.”

He absolutely hated the miserable, pathetic, sick feeling that overtook him whenever he thought about his parents’ ugly battle, let alone had to confront it head-on in a situation like this. He’d prefer to forget that time in his life, if only that were possible.

“Carson?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that this situation… It fucks me up.”

“Of course it does. How could it not?”

“I’d totally understand if you wanted to bail out, Cres. You have enough of your own crap to deal with. No need to add mine to the pile.”

“How to say this without saying too much…”

He glanced over at her as he followed Julian’s hired Bentley to Beverly Hills. He’d actually hired a car, probably to make the evening more magical for Isla. Further proof that his brother was totally off the deep end over her. “Say what?”

“It’s just that I… Well…”

That little stammer, coming from one of the most beautiful and confident women he’d ever met, caught his attention and had him reaching for her hand. “Tell me.”

“I like you.”

“Oh. I like you, too.”

“I mean I like you, and most important of all, Ty likes you.”

Her seven-year-old son was adorable, smart, funny and interested in learning to surf, which Carson had promised him they’d do soon.

“That’s an awfully long pause,” she said after a minute of silence.

“I like both of you, too. I really do, but⁠—”

She grimaced. “Nothing good ever follows that word.”

“I’m not the right guy for you, Cres.”

“Shouldn’t that be up to me to decide?”

“Of course, but I don’t want you to get invested in me that way. It’s not who I am.” The very thought of her and her sweet son getting attached to him made him excruciatingly uncomfortable. They deserved better than someone who didn’t want the same things they did.

“Who are you?” she asked, sounding genuinely interested in hearing the answer.

Had it ever taken longer to drive from Hollywood to Beverly Hills at night? Not that he could recall. “I’m a lone wolf. I do what I want, when I want, and I don’t answer to anyone.”

“Even at work?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Especially there. They need me more than I need them.”

“What about your family?”