Scott. She was talking about Scott. “He’s going to have to be dealt with,” Jeremy sighed. “I think I’m calling the Finns in for a meeting. We can’t keep pretending we’re okay with Jen marrying that asshole.”
Tasha looked into his eyes, her own dark with worry. “No, we can’t now. You can’t. I’m so sorry, Jeremy. This is all my fault.”
“Why are you sorry? You’re starting to scare me now. Tell me what’s going on.”
She fumbled for the purse that was dangling from her shoulders, reaching in to dig out her phone. “I got a text message a few hours ago. There was a video and a picture attached.”
Tasha pushed play and tilted her phone toward Jeremy. It was dark inside the car, but he could clearly see a topless Tasha, her expression passionate as she straddled the man whose face was buried in her lush breasts.
The Finn brother whose name she wouldn’t reveal the last time they’d spoken. Even though they were twins, all it took was one look at the expensive if rumpled suit to know which one she was riding. “Stephen? You had sex with Senator Finn in a public parking lot?”
Stephen. The man whose career could be, if not ruined, then severely damaged, by a sex tape. The public wouldn’t care that they were both single, consenting adults. It would be a scandal. “Shit. You don’t have to kill Scott. I will.”
She stopped the video and took a breath. “I’m sorry, Jeremy.”
“For that? Babe, you and I have done much w—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I’m sorry for this.”
Natasha opened an attached picture and he felt his heart stop then start to race so hard he thought it might explode. How? “Christ.”
This morning he’d walked Owen to the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Owen been teasing him all through breakfast and Jeremy had wanted to make sure the fiend was just as affected for the rest of the day as he was going to be. He’d pushed him against the side of the house and kissed him with all the desire he was feeling. A desire that was meant for Owen alone.
And Scott had been there, watching. He’d snapped a fucking picture on his phone.
“Does he want money?” Jeremy asked grimly. He felt like the walls were closing in on him. Like his world might collapse. “Did he tell you how much?”
Neither of these could ever see the light of day. No one could know.
Tasha was soothing him now, her hands cupping his face. “If I could go back I would make better decisions. I wouldn’t have given in to Stephen that night. I wouldn’t have tried to show Jen that good a time. I wouldn’t have taunted him, not if I thought for one second it would endanger your relationship with Owen. He’s the one, isn’t he? That’s why you couldn’t tell me.”
“Stephen is who we should worry about,” Jeremy said, lifting her off his lap and standing, because he felt the need to fight. “I’ve got money, Tasha. I’ll make a deal w—”
“He didn’t just send it to me,” she interrupted him in a hushed voice that sounded like a shout to his ears. “He sent that text to four people simultaneously. Me, Stephen, Seamus…and Owen.”
Jeremy swayed as if he’d been punched in the gut, the blood rushing in his ears in a deafening roar. The Finn brothers. All of them had seen him kissing Owen. Seen Owen kissing him back. “Jesus.”
His legs gave out and he sat down heavily on his coffee table, feeling the ache from Owen’s paddle and knowing he would never get that again. Never touch him again. Not now that they all knew. He reached for his own phone, his hands shaking so hard she could see it, and dialed Owen’s number, listening to the ring while Tasha watched.
It went to voicemail and he hung up. “Damn it.”
Tasha reached out, her hands on his knees. “Stephen called me right before I got here. He said they were all together and they would take care of it, but I—we—needed to stay away until they did. Finn business, he said.”
Finn business. Not his business, but about him. God, Owen. What was he going through? Jeremy wanted to be at his side, to support him and defend him when he faced his brothers, but he knew Owen wouldn’t welcome that.
It was all his fault. He shouldn’t have kissed him outside where anyone could see. He should’ve been more careful. No one was supposed to know.
He looked at Tasha, feeling like he was drowning. “God, Tasha, what should I do? What am I going to do?”
For the first time he saw something that looked like pity in her eyes. “All we can do is wait, honey. We don’t want Scott sending those to a gossip magazine or a news outlet. Stephen is good at this dance. He’ll know how to play this game better than we ever could.”