Forbidden Neighbor: A Contemporary Romance Boxset (Forbidden Saga Book 2)

by Summer Brooks

  “That sounds like a good plan,” I say, even though I really don’t want to go. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

  “Great. Guests are just arriving now,” Dan says. “I’m glad you’re coming, Chris. Wouldn’t be the same without you.” He hangs up before he can get any mushier, which Dan can do quite effectively. Me? Not so much.

  I pocket my cell phone. Great. Just what I want after a day of litigations and negotiations and arguments - to go out and be polite and talk to some boring people I have nothing in common with, except the fact that most of us are lawyers or old high school buddies.

  But there would be Dan, and Dan is my friend. It’s not like I have anyone else to celebrate this victory with, anyways. Besides, Dan always has my back, unlike so many others.

  I get up and stretch. I’m the last to leave, per usual, and slowly turn off all of the lights in the firm, lock the door, and head back home to shower and change.

  And then try to be charming at this evening’s proceedings.

  That was going to be the most challenging thing of all.

  3

  Laura

  Turns out that it doesn’t matter how red my dress is or how muted Amanda’s own dress color is, she’ll always draw way more attention than me at any occasion.

  I mean, I can’t say that I blame anyone here, even I can’t stop staring at her sometimes. However, the only attention I’ve been receiving has either been from my brother - who’s kind and inclusive and says all the right things - or from several creeps, who I don’t want to talk to. Of course, for all I know, Amanda is also swarmed by creeps, but she’s handling it way better than I am.

  Who knew that my brother knew so many creeps, anyways?

  The hors-d’oeuvres and drinks, at least, are spectacular. Besides, I’m happily enjoying a crispy salmon bite covered in sesame seeds and planning how exactly one would get away with murder here - completely for book purposes of course - when a familiar figure comes up beside me.

  “Laura, lovely to see you again.”

  My entire spine dissolves into shivers. I’d forgotten. I’d somehow, in all of the preparations and the worries and thinking about my book, forgotten that my brother’s partner John would be here. Wonderful.

  I suddenly wish I hadn’t worn the red dress - that I’d worn baggy jogging pants and an oversized t-shirt. Who am I kidding? He’d still have come talk to me. It’s been a dance that has been going on for quite a while, after all.

  “Looking good tonight, Laura,” he says.

  I can practically hear the sleaziness in his voice - like it accentuates all the wrong syllables, or all the right ones, depending on how you look at it. I feel the urge to cover myself more, suddenly very aware of how the dress, with its fine gold chains draped across my shoulders, leave very little to the imagination. Plus the construction of the dress gives me fine cleavage, which I’m sure he’s staring at right now. I’m trying really hard not to look him in the eye, and focus on this delicious crispy salmon bite instead.

  I don’t answer, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He never has before, so why would he tonight? I’m wondering if you can kill someone with a salmon bite. It’s crispy, so surely that means sharp edges are involved. The thought of trying to stab John with a tiny hors d’oeuvre brings a smile to my lips. Unfortunately, he interprets it as me being glad to see him.

  “Great timing, Laura. So, what have you been up to these days? You got any books out yet?”

  He leans in closer, and I wish that I’d never told him back in the day when I was still innocent - and thought that everyone had some good in them - that I was hoping to get published someday. He always remembered it. It was the only thing that he remembered, aside from how I looked. But it was also the most annoying thing, because not only do I now have to contend with Mr. Sleazy-Face, but I also have to contend with the fact that I am, in fact, not published yet.

  But thanks so much for asking, because that’s not a terribly painful blow to my pride.

  I redirect, “How have you been, John?”

  His smile widens, and I try for two seconds to look him in the eye. He’s not looking in my eye, that’s for sure. So I focus back on the crispy salmon bite. Unfortunately, I’m pretty much done now. There must be another one around here somewhere. Maybe a waiter will pass by with another pointy hors d’oeuvre? No luck. Well, at least I’m still clutching my red wine. That’s something.

  I take a large gulp.

  “Oh, I’m doing great,” he says. “I mean, I don’t know if your brother’s told you how many great victories I’ve had lately, but I am just rolling in successes.”

  No, my brother hasn’t told me about any of your victories. Why would he? He knows I’m not interested in John. He knows that I don’t care to hear that much about John’s victories, especially since usually it means that some big corporation is getting away with something terrible.

  John is apparently impervious to the scorching thoughts that I don’t share with him, and he leans in closer, “All that I’ve been missing is a little bit of celebrating.”

  I almost choke on my wine. He’s a bit too close now, and his hand is on my shoulder - my bare shoulder. I should have definitely worn a potato sack - a thick, scratchy, stinky potato sack, which could serve the dual function of a dress and a John Repellent.

  Why do I even have to look good here? It’s my brother’s birthday party. What I look like doesn’t matter. My brother doesn’t care. As long as I’m here and I look like I’m having a decent time, he won’t care. Except I’m having a crappy time, and it’s going to be really hard to hide that the second that I throw a glass of red wine in John’s face.

  “Laura,” another voice interrupts, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this grateful. I turn to see Chris Heed, another one of Dan’s oldest friends, walking up to join us. For a split second, I see him noticing John’s hand on my shoulder. He frowns at it and then smiles my way.

  “How’ve you been, Laura? It’s been too long.”

  “It has,” I say gratefully, focusing completely on him and ignoring John. “I hear you’re still doing great at the firm and just impressing everyone over there, Chris.”

  John’s hand drops from my shoulder. Perfect. Did he feel that sting? I hope so. The fact that I’m aware of Chris’ accomplishments, but not his? Maybe that would get him to leave me alone now.

  That would be okay. That would be better than ok. That would be awesome.

  “Thanks,” Chris says, still focusing on me and completely ignoring John. I notice that Chris is slowly making his way between John and me, to cut him off.

  I’ve known Chris for a long time. He was my first crush back in the day. But he’s always so focused on work that it was never worth pursuing anything. I never even realized that Chris was aware of my existence.

  “Do you want to get another drink?” Chris asks, offering his arm.

  “Please and thank you,” I say, and then I mumble back towards John, politeness forcing me to do so, “We’ll talk later, John.”

  He doesn’t answer, but I can feel his glare at the back of our heads as we walk away.

  “Where do you want me to bring you?” Chris whispers conspiratorially.

  “Anywhere but here,” I whisper back, stifling a giggle. This is starting to feel like some kind of detective comedy and that we’re about to go on a spy mission, trying to evade the enemy. And we are. That enemy is John. John the creepy. John the annoying.

  “I know where your brother stashes his best stuff,” he gives me a wink. I laugh, and he leads me to the back of the house, away from the party. Immediately, I feel relief filling me from head to toe. I don’t mind parties, but I find them so tiresome. All those people just wanting to chat with little or no social connection, and usually no common interests whatsoever. Small talk is exhausting, and there’s just so much of it here.

  All I want to do is curl up with a good book and ignore the world for a while.

  “My lady?” Chris say
s, pointing to the leather couch in Dan’s study.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” I give a short curtsy, and I let go of his arm and sit there while he pours us each a tumbler of whiskey from my brother’s crystal bottle.

  “Are you sure he won’t mind?” I ask. I mean, I do love my brother, and I don’t exactly want to go through his secret stash, especially if he’s keeping it for something special.

  “Don’t worry,” Chris says, sensing my discomfort. “I promise you I’ll even replace it. I know exactly what he likes.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble and accept the drink gratefully. Now that I’m not so worried about all of the people in the place, or John being an idiot, I pay attention to Chris again. I haven’t seen him in forever. He looks just as stunning as he did when we were younger. Dark hair, with just a little bit of gray clinging perfectly to his temples. His dark eyes have always been unreadable to me; I’ve always felt like they have looked directly into my soul and seen things there that I didn’t mean to share. Tonight is no exception.

  His body is where most of the change has occurred. Since we last saw each other, he’s morphed from lanky teenager to, well, definitely not lanky anymore. Instead, he’s muscled and ridiculously handsome and chiseled. There should be laws against being that good looking. I feel awkward again, and take a sip of whiskey. It is good. It warms my throat all the way down and relaxes me.

  “So how have you been, Laura?” he asks, as though unaware of the fact that I’ve been ogling him for the last full minute in total silence. Probably awed silence. Maybe it’s not a mystery book that I should be writing, but a romance instead. Because when I stare at him, there’s no mystery as to how I feel.

  I shift a little bit, hoping that he’ll assign the flush on my face to the whiskey.

  “Oh, I’ve been good,” I say. I clear my throat. “You know, things are going well… Still working at the bookstore…”

  “Oh, that’s great!” he enthusiastically interrupts. “You always loved reading so much - always had your nose in a book. That’s really wonderful.”

  I’m a little bit surprised at that. Most people usually ask me why I’m wasting my life working in a bookstore, why I’m not finding a job or a career. But Chris seems genuinely pleased that I’m still working there.

  “Uh, thank you. I mean, a lot of people don’t think much of that job.”

  Why did I just say that? It’s because I can’t stop staring at him, and the drink is going to my head, and I’m not exactly sure why we’re here anymore, except for the fact that we got away from John, and - mind you - that part makes me really happy, and… wow, why did Chris have to be so handsome? And suddenly, so serious.

  “People who tell you your job isn’t good enough,” Chris says, biting off every word, not in a mean way, but as though making sure he’s being heard, “aren’t your friends. You have good employment, you enjoy what you do, and you give a lot back to your community. That’s all that any of us can do, and that’s more than a lot of people do.”

  Taken a little aback by his outburst, I stare at him some more. He gives me a lazy grin.

  “I work with all types of people in my job, and I know how some people never find a job that makes them happy or a career that fulfills them. So I’m just glad you have. Screw the haters.”

  I laugh at that. Of course, it’s easy for him to say that. He doesn’t really have bills to pay at the end of the day.

  Billionaire, old family money. Working mostly because he wants to help others, not because he has to. Plus, he’s all charm and looks.

  Did it just get warmer in here?

  4

  Chris

  I’ve known Laura Martin for most of my life. She’s a little sister to one of my best friends. But before now, I’ve never paid her much mind. Nice enough, but we’d never really had the time or inclination to connect in any way. And truth be told, until today I’d never even really noticed her.

  But today, I’m noticing her. The red dress she wears accentuates her blonde hair and blue eyes to a T. And every single curve - and there are many of those - is perfectly showcased.

  Either the whiskey or just being able to relax one-on-one has her speaking more animatedly now, instead of looking either terrified or confused, as she did at first. And she’s absolutely adorable and stunning as she discusses the latest books she’s read and all the plot fallacies she’s found inside of them.

  I’m trying really hard not to stare at her, but it’s hard. Thankfully, her moving lips are just as fun to watch as anything else.

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupt. “So you said that the lawyer didn’t think there would be a case against a man who was found with bloody garden shears?”

  “Yes!” she exclaims, throwing up her arms as though declaring hallelujah.

  “And,” I continue, taking a serious sip of my whiskey. Dan certainly did have good stuff, there were many reasons I was best friends with the man, this was one of them. A minor one, sure, but still an important one. “You’re also saying that despite the fact that this man had multiple other marks on his record, they still didn’t think he was a good suspect?”

  “Exactly,” Laura says, nodding. “And now I can’t figure out if this book is trying to, like, pull the biggest red herring ever or if it’s just poorly written.”

  “I can see that. What if you flipped to the end to find out?”

  She looks shocked at the suggestion. I laugh.

  “I could never do that!” she says. “That’s how you spoil a book. Why would I spoil a book on myself? Besides, I’ll never learn how to write these bestsellers unless I study them from cover to cover, right?”

  “That makes sense,” I sober up a little. She’s completely at ease now and smiling at me. I’m resisting the urge to just reach down and kiss her. I haven’t seen her in years, and we’ve never really talked until this moment, but I can feel the sparks between us. And, from the way she moves closer to me, I’m pretty sure she does, too.

  “You do corporate law, right?” Laura asks.

  “I do. Corporate criminal law, to be precise. So, big corporations usually going after little people, trying to ruin their businesses or their livelihoods or their homes. That kind of stuff.”

  She leans in, “That sounds absolutely fascinating. I can see why you went into it.”

  “Oh, thank you,” I’m not sure what else to say. Few people are ever fascinated by corporate criminal law. Half the time, my cases are taking on cell phone providers, or big box stores that mistreat their employees. Half the time, I’m supporting an expert in labor law or in corporate law. Whenever there are criminal infractions, is when I get to pull out the big guns. It’s not exactly a sexy job, but it’s a good job, and I’m proud of what I do.

  “So,” Laura asks, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  “Yes?” I grin at her. I can’t help it. Her energy is electric and lights up the entire room.

  “What would it take, do you think, for someone to get away with murder in a corporate setting?”

  I narrow my eyes, and think on her question while admiring the way the shadows play along her perfect cheekbones.

  “Are we killing the CEO or a lowly worker?”

  “Ah, follow-up question,” she mulls on it. “You are, indeed, a lawyer. Hmm… let’s go CEO. Seems a little bit more, I don’t know, apt.”

  “Alright. Well, you’d have to look at the CEO’s routines - what they drink, where they go in the day, who they are close to. Wait. Are they involved in their workforce at all? Are they a good guy or are they kind of a jackass, because that’s going to change the MO completely.”

  “Ooh. That’s a good point,” she sips her whiskey before putting down the glass. “How would you go about figuring those things out, though? Let’s say you were a lowly worker trying to kill a CEO?”

  “Now, as your lawyer,” I say in my most serious voice, “I must advise you that perhaps discussing the murder of a CEO might prove suspicious if one happens to fall dead
tomorrow.”

  She laughs, like silver bells in the air. Every part of her is alight with the discussions, and she’s absolutely stunning. Her hand comes down on my knee as she leans in closer. Her touch makes me rock hard.

  “Oh, are you my lawyer now?” she whispers.

  She’s getting closer, bolder. I want to reach over and pull her to me but hold back. This is Laura Martin - Dan’s little sister. Off limits, Heed! Tell that to my body.

  “That depends,” I say. “Do you happen to need one?”

  She bites her lower lip, meets my gaze and doesn’t shy away, despite the pink blush spreading across her cheeks, “I can think of a reason why I could use one tonight…”

  I’m not sure who exactly moves in for the kiss first, but before I know it, we’re kissing hard and deep. Her lips part and welcome my mouth, our tongues dancing as though long acquainted. I grow even harder, even though our bodies are barely touching.

  My hand travels up her thigh, pushing up the tantalizing red dress, and then going under it, cupping her hip and then further below. She pushes herself up and lands on my lap, kissing me even more deeply, my hands holding her ass, thin lacy underwear is all that stands between me and her flesh.

  Whatever modicum of self-control I had left evaporates when she moans in my mouth.

  5

  Laura

  I’m kissing Chris deeply, and I can barely catch my breath. He tastes and feels as good as he looks. The whiskey is making my head swim a bit, but not that much. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t intend to stop.

  Chris was my first crush, even though he didn’t know I existed. But now, he’s aware of me. From the hard bulge between his legs, he’s extremely aware of me.

  His hands travel up and down my entire body - to my breasts, my curves, my ass. Everytime he finds flesh, I feel a jolt of desire and electricity. I’m so very wet, and I want him so very badly.