Home > THE BENNETTS' CHRISTMAS (The Bennett Family and the Masters Family Book 6)(68)

THE BENNETTS' CHRISTMAS (The Bennett Family and the Masters Family Book 6)(68)
Author: Brenda Jackson

He could see why he’d think he heard her though. After all, she was constantly on his mind. He went to bed thinking about her, he dreamed about her and he would wake up thinking about her. He hated that even after almost a week apart, she could still mess with his mind.

The missing person’s case he’d been working had kept his mind occupied for a little while. But now that his assignment was over, she filled his mind again. Even though he tried to forget the cruise, and the woman who’d brought him back to life, he couldn’t. And he was very much afraid that he never would.

Landon was sprinkling pepper on his eggs when he heard the woman’s voice again saying... “If you don’t leave, I will tell the waitress that you’re harassing me.”

He froze. That woman sounded way too much like Monica for him to ignore. And it sounded as if she was in the same type of situation Monica often found herself in, with men making unwanted advances. Was fate messing with him again?

He decided to verify once and for all that the woman was not Monica. She couldn’t be. But even if the woman wasn’t Monica, she was being harassed. And he had no problem stepping in and telling the man to take a hike.

Tossing his napkin on the table, he stood and walked around the wall.

 

 

Monica glared. The man had the gall to smile at her, as if he didn’t care that he’d royally pissed her off. “Go away. Now.”

The man’s smile widened. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re cute when you’re angry?”

“Is there a reason you’re harassing this lady?”

Monica jerked around to look at the man who’d approached her table, and who now stood glaring at the man who’d taken it upon himself to sit with her without being invited. “Landon!”

He looked at her but didn’t smile. Instead, he turned back to the man and said in a firm voice, “Leave.”

Evidently, the guy quickly figured out that Landon was not someone to mess with and quickly stood and said, “Hey, she didn’t say she was with anyone.” Then he rushed off.

Landon watched him leave and then turned to her. “Monica, what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you.”

His expression became unreadable. “I don’t know why you would do that. We have nothing to say to each other.”

Then he turned and walked off.

Monica called after him. “Landon, please wait.”

Turning around, he asked, “Yes?”

“You might have nothing to say to me…but there’s a lot that I need to say to you.”

“I’m not interested.”

He turned and kept walking but didn’t leave the restaurant. Instead, he seemed to be heading somewhere on the other side of the wall. That meant he was in here dining. She must have missed him in the buffet line when she’d scanned the restaurant before.

“Are you ready to order, miss?”

She glanced up at the smiling waitress, knowing exactly what she was going to do. She hadn’t come all this way to have Landon ignore her. He was going to hear her out. Afterward, if he didn’t accept her apology, it would be on him. But at least, she’d have tried.

“Yes, I’m getting the buffet. I found the person I was looking for earlier, so I’ll be joining him at his table, if that’s okay. He’s just sitting on the other side of the wall.”

“Alright.”

After the waitress left, Monica gathered her belongings and stood. Landon was about to find out just how determined a Bennett could be.

 

 

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

 

LANDON COULD BARELY KEEP his hands from shaking with the anger he felt when he picked up his fork. Monica was here in Vegas, and she’d said she had come looking for him. Too late. He didn’t want to hear anything she had to say.

He had been missing her so much, and yesterday had taken its toll. So he had done something he had told himself he would not do—call her. He had needed to talk to her, to hear her voice. To plead with her once again. That’s when he’d discovered she had blocked his number.

The fact that she’d gone that far to make sure they couldn’t connect again, enraged him. And he was still angry. He couldn’t think of a better way to let him know that the days they had spent together on the cruise meant nothing to her. She had pretty much told him they hadn’t, but a part of him had hoped she might soften her stance. But now, he couldn’t care less. A man had his pride, after all.

Holding his fork steady, he began eating, wondering how she’d known where he was. One of the guys in the firm had to have told her and the only one who would do such a thing was Duan. He would be making a call to his friend as soon as he finished eating breakfast.

He had just picked up his coffee to take a sip when Monica slid into the booth seat across from him. He drew in a deep breath. Her scent had attacked his brain cells earlier, and it was bombarding them now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked harshly.

“What does it look like?”

Her comeback surprised him. She had snapped at him the same way he’d barked at her. If he hadn’t been so angry, he would have found it amusing. “You do know you’re invading my space the same way that guy had been invading yours.”

She shrugged. “Not really. There’s a major difference.”

He shouldn’t ask but he couldn’t help himself. “And that difference is…?”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, and then she smiled. “He doesn’t love me. You do.”

He felt as if someone had sucker-punched him. If she thought for one minute that she could waltz her way back into his life, breaking down his defenses by throwing his love for her back at him—the love she had rejected—he’d just have to set her straight.

He was about to tell her that very thing when, as if she’d read his mind, she said, “Believing you still love me is what gave me the courage to come here.”

He didn’t say anything. Doing so would start a conversation between them, and he didn’t want to talk to her.

What he wanted to do was finish his breakfast and get the hell out of here. He hadn’t come to Vegas for this. But then again, it really hadn’t mattered where he went. Monica would have been on his mind anyway. Wasn’t it better to deal with this in person, instead of suffering through memories he couldn’t let go of?

Why did she have to look so beautiful in the morning? He recalled asking himself that question every morning, especially those mornings he would wake up beside her.

“I think I’ll have buffet as well.”

He almost told her to have whatever the hell she wanted, and to just leave him alone, but he couldn’t. Especially when she stood and walked over to the buffet station. His gaze followed her, though he wished it wouldn’t. He’d missed her curvaceous body, now on display in the tight jeans she had one. And her hair... He was barely able to resist reaching out to touch the curly strands that hung around her shoulders.

He sighed deeply. This would be a good time for him to get up and leave, while she was gone. But something deep inside him would not allow that. It was as if he was rooted in place. He had told her he hadn’t wanted to hear what she had to say. But maybe he was wrong. He would hear her out, tell her it was too late for them and then send her on her way. He hoped.

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