Crashing into Love

by Hollis Wynn

  “Sure.” I try not to roll my eyes.

  “I’m having a party tonight. VIP only. Maybe you should join me once you get off.” The innuendos are obvious, and I want to gag.

  “No, thank you,” I quickly respond.

  He smiles and shakes his head, prepared to make another remark before Baker interrupts him.

  “Mr. Langston. I thought we were finished,” Baker states, anger emanating in his tone.

  He has his fake smile on as he steps around him, effectively closing off the space between us, his body in protective mode. I step to the side, so I can still see Mr. Langston from a safer vantage point.

  “We have. Just got lost.” He glances at me and Baker quakes with anger.

  “It’s the other way. A left at the end of the hall.” Baker points toward the exit. “Do you need an escort?” His voice is tight, and I recognize it as the one he uses when he’s pissed.

  “No, thank you.” The man clears his throat and flashes me a smile again.

  I frown and stare him down.

  “My bar is downtown. Huge building with the blue lights. You can’t miss it,” He says.

  “Thank you for the invitation, but as I said earlier, no, thank you.”

  He chuckles and scoffs, before turning on his heel and walking away. The view of his black suit leaves a trail of dread in the pit of my stomach.

  Baker turns to me after ensuring Langston actually leaves the office, and asks, “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. He was just inviting me to his bar tonight.” I’m sure I’ve been to a bar with blue lights, but I can’t place it.

  “He’s the guy in business with Alexander Lake.”

  Ah. That explains it. The Golden Girl. I have been there—twice. I guess I will have to be nicer if I see him again.

  Baker frowns, his brow forming a deep ridge.

  “Gotcha,” I say, touching his arm gingerly, I realized we gravitated to each other during the whole showdown.

  He sighs, but I know he’s holding something back. He looks at me, but not like he normally does with desire in his eyes. I grow concerned quickly and hold his arms as I find this gaze again.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I think I just found the culprit.”

  Twenty-Eight

  I replay his words in my head. I’m wondering what the hell he’s talking about because I’m still processing what just went down with Soren Langston. It’s starting to seem like Baker is the only man that is good looking and not an asshole in this whole city.

  Baker looks down at me like I have two heads and I realize I should probably say something.

  “Sorry I—it’s been a long day.” I rub my forehead for dramatic effect, but also because I really do have a headache.

  “Come inside and sit down.” Baker ushers me into his office and I take a deep breath of him and feel slightly better.

  I don’t know why I’m so wobbly on my feet. I think Langston really creeped me out, and I’m coming down from an adrenaline dump. He was trying to be charming, but it came off as unsettling and creepy instead. Maybe it’s because he’s a criminal and my gut knew that before I did.

  I sit across from Baker’s desk in one of the chairs, but he waves me to him on the couch. I allow all the crazy thoughts about how this could go wrong to run through my head for a couple seconds, then push them away. He slinks his arm around my shoulders and tucks me into him. He is so solid yet soft, so warm and comforting. I close my eyes and moan as I sink into him a bit more.

  “This dress is beautiful.” His hand traces the end of my skirt where it ends mid-thigh.

  My body comes alive, the cold from before gone, replaced by Baker’s heat. I lean my head into his shoulder and sigh.

  “It was all I had left in my closet,” I lie, a sly smile creeping onto my face.

  He leans over, kissing the top of my head. I love head kisses. I don’t know why, but there is something so special about a kiss that doesn’t ask for or expect anything in return. I wish he would do it again. As if he’s a mind reader, he does it again. My heartbeat quickens and I swoon.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks me.

  I sigh again and sit up. I can’t concentrate while folded into his arms. I twist and lean on to the arm of the couch as he regards me carefully. I wish he wasn’t so handsome—well, no I don’t. Maybe I just need to get used to it and stop swooning so hard each time I see him. Though it may be impossible.

  “I don’t know. That man . . . he creeped me out, a little. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of men try to hit on me and come up with the worst pickup lines. But he was . . . different.” A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of it.

  Baker nods at me and his brow tightens as his jaw clenches. He is angry as hell.

  “His name is Soren Langston.” Baker shakes his head and scoffs. “He’s a prick.”

  I nod in agreement. “I know. He was practically begging me to join him at a club tonight.”

  “You’re not going,” Baker demands.

  “Maybe I am.”

  Baker growls at me. “No, you’re not.”

  A blush rises in my cheeks. I love that he’s so worked up and wants to protect me, but I can do whatever the hell I want. “Why not? It’s just a party.” I shrug and I can see the anger in his face. His eyes are so dark they’re almost black and his lips are in a thin tight line.

  He shakes his head and shifts in his seat. He stands to remove his suit jacket as if he’s preparing for war.

  “And why would you go?” Baker entertains me.

  I giggle and cross my legs, watching his gaze flip to my exposed skin. My dress is riding up as I allow myself to sink lower into the couch.

  “Because—”

  “Because your man wouldn’t like that,” he interrupts, answering for me through clenched teeth.

  I laugh out loud then.

  “You are not my man, Baker.” As much as I would like him to be. “You have trials to go through before we get to that point.” I honestly haven’t had a real boyfriend in so long that it seems crazy to even think about him this way.

  “Oh. Okay.” He holds his hands up in a defensive posture. “What are they?” he prompts me.

  I shake my head before responding, “You’ll know when I’m ready to share.”

  Baker purses his lips and all I want to do is kiss them. Then he smiles slowly.

  “Okay, Red. I’ll keep that in mind.” He stands suddenly. “Would you like a drink?” he asks as he heads toward the mini bar on the other side of his office.

  For some, it’s unusual to have a bar in the office, but since we entertain clients, my father decided it was a good idea for us to have something on hand that will help them mellow out in certain situations.

  I could use a drink, but it would just cause a ripple effect and I need a cupcake to complete the combination.

  “No, thank you.”

  “You sure?” He pours himself a honey-colored liquid—probably a scotch or a bourbon.

  “Yeah. I would need . . .” I stop myself before giving too much away.

  He turns back to me with a smile and a brow raised in question. “What?” He downs his drink and clanks the glass back on the table.

  He crosses the room in two long strides and takes his place next to me on the couch. This time closer. I smell the alcohol and recognize the bourbon scent now. It mixes well with the mint already on his breath.

  “You’d laugh at me.” I roll my eyes.

  He successfully disarms me with his smile, and I notice a faint light twinkling in the depths of his dark blue eyes.

  “I won’t. Scouts’ honor.” He holds up three fingers in the scout sign.

  I bite my lip and shake my head, not believing that I’m admitting this to him.

  “I have an addiction.” I break off. Addiction is serious and I don’t want to say this in jest, but from what I can tell sugar is seriously addicting.

  “To what?” he asks, confusion evident as he wrinkles his fore
head.

  I laugh to myself. “To cupcakes and cocktails. It’s kind of my thing.”

  Baker’s face goes blank, and he throws his head back, letting out a great peal of laughter. I love his laugh, such a combination of hard and masculine combined with a softness I can’t pinpoint. Just light him. My eyes are glistening, but I ignore them.

  “What are you talking about?” he manages to get out between laughs.

  I look down at my lap, smiling, my face ablaze with heat from being in this room with him.

  “I eat cupcakes and drink cocktails. It’s a hobby of some sort. I even have a blog—”

  “Wait!” He holds up his hand, interrupting me. “You’re Searching Sterling?”

  I stare at him, all wide-eyed innocence. “What?”

  He chuckles and nods slowly, his cheeks redden slightly but I’m certain it’s from all his laughing, not embarrassment like I feel.

  “God, it makes so much sense now.”

  “How so?” I ask.

  “Every time I read a post, it felt as though I knew the author intimately. Which now I do,” he says with a wink. “But it is nice to know how you really feel about us in the office—and men, in general.”

  I hide my face in my hands as he laughs again.

  “I just—”

  He interrupts me again before I can continue my thoughts. “Where have all the new posts been? I can’t lie to you and say I didn’t notice they stopped after our first night together.”

  Our first night together.

  “Yeah, um . . . I didn’t know what to say. Plus, I didn’t want to share you with anyone else yet. Add in that I think most people read the blog for the silliness and dating drama.” I hold my hands up and shrug.

  Baker’s eyes connect with mine, and I can see the heat in them. I watch him lick his lips and smile widely at me.

  “I don’t know what to say. Though I’m flattered. But why did the dating stop?” he asks me.

  I sigh, not sure how to answer this. Yes, the guys were not it for me. For the first time I felt like I may have a chance with Baker, and I didn’t want to let go of that time. He leans into me a bit more and his knee touches mine as he takes my hand softly.

  “Eh.” Here comes the confession. “I really like you. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time, and it didn’t feel right to continue dating anyone else. Yes, I know it sounds crazy because we’re not officially anything, but I’m a one-man woman and I plan to stay that way. Though I am crazy about you,” I laugh nervously.

  Baker squeezes my hand.

  “So yeah. I just wanted to focus on you—on us. But I will continue to eat all the cupcakes and drink way too many cocktails.”

  He laughs with me, which makes my nerves settle just a bit.

  “Well, I am pretty crazy about you,” Baker says as he smiles at me and reaches out, cupping my face. His thumb brushes across my cheek and I lean into his touch. Everything from before—all the worry and nerves—fade away and it’s just us, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  My heart stops at hearing those words. I wish we weren’t in the office so I could jump him.

  “Red, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathes into my ear.

  “Stop—” I try to wiggle away from him and his electric touch.

  “No. I mean it. In fact, it makes me crazy when I see other men looking at you. And whatever your trials are—I’m going to ace them.”

  That makes me smile wider. I take his hand and kiss his palm before dropping it into my lap.

  “Okay.”

  For a while we sit in total silence. I get comfy on his couch as he answers emails from his phone. I’m glad that I don’t have much left on my desk so I can sit here and enjoy this time a bit. He mentions going to dinner and taking me home, but I can’t get Langston out of my head.

  “Baker, what did you mean when you said, ‘I think I just found the culprit’? Did you mean Langston?” I finally ask him.

  His face contorts and his mood shifts sharply to anger. I watch his nostrils flare and I’m shocked. This guy must really be awful for Baker to react this way.

  “The case with Alexander Lake,” he begins.

  I nod in response but don’t say anything.

  “Lake had me looking into the accounts and some work he hired a PI to do. I went to the club the other day to meet him about it, and at that point I didn’t have any clue as to where this was going. Today when I met with Langston, he said something that threw me off, confirming what I suspected. Turns out Langston didn’t do what he told Lake he was going to do, and the club is receiving and paying out tons of funds to shell corporations.” He runs his fingers through his dark locks in frustration. “Many of which tie back to Langston, I’m sure, but I don’t have concrete evidence.”

  I try to wrap my head around everything. Basically, there is the potential for a lot of crap to be wrong here and Baker is perched right in the middle of it all. This guy—this case, could be dangerous. Who knows what kind of man Soren Langston really is. Seems to me like he’s hiding more than documents.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper.

  Baker huffs. “Yeah.”

  “That is super shitty. How will you . . . What are you going to do?”

  Baker shakes his head, and I notice the faint dark circles wrapping around his beautiful eyes. This is really getting to him.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any proof yet, just a lot of dead-end trails. He’s a mastermind at manipulating people and things, so I’ve got to be careful. I do need to be circumspect when it comes to approaching Lake with this information.”

  “You have to prove that Soren committed a crime,” I finish, and he nods in agreement.

  “Yeah and take him down. So far he hasn’t made any mistakes that I can find.” Baker shakes his head again in disbelief. “He’s meticulous, and it’s going to take a great deal more work to figure out how deep this goes.”

  “Man . . .”

  In the years I’ve been here, I’ve worked on a variety of cases. Some simple and straight forward and some not so much. But I don’t ever recall seeing one of the guys this anxious about one.

  Baker is close to hitting his breaking point on this case. Being a private company, we need as much proof as possible before we go to the authorities. If my hunch is right, we may have potential RICO charges on this guy—or the feds will. We’ll just provide the evidence.

  “So, what exactly is he doing? Using the bar to launder money or something?” I ask.

  “Yep. He’s using the bar as a front company to wash the money. Lake noticed some inconsistencies in the books and that’s why he came to us, asking me to dig a bit deeper.”

  I nod in understanding. “That sounds like an issue.” I don’t know what else to say and feel a bit useless.

  “For sure.” He swallows hard and clenches his jaw.

  “I wish I could help more.”

  “No.” Baker shakes his head. “I am glad that I have you to talk to about this. Often it’s the person who’s not intimately involved in these cases who calls out the one piece we’re missing because they’re not already down a rabbit hole.”

  “Maybe I can take you home and we work all our stress out together.”

  He chuckles. “Later?”

  “For sure.”

  What he said has me thinking. “Do you need a confession from Soren or something?”

  “That would help, but it’s never going to happen.” He arches his brow at me, and I know he’s onto me.

  “Well, he was really into me,” I say. “Maybe I could go to the club tonight and get close to him.”

  “Fuck no!” Baker growls.

  “Wait. Here me out.” I rub his shoulder and feel all the tension he’s holding there. “I could pretend to be interested in him. Maybe he’d talk to me about the club. If I can get some hard evidence on him”—I giggle at my choice of words—“that would help you, right?”

  Baker shakes his head hard. “Absolutely not. You�
�re not going there tonight.” He rubs my arm and grips me tightly.

  “But it could work. How else will you get him to confess? Are you going to torture him?”

  “We don’t torture people, Sutton. You’ve been watching too much television again. No matter what happens, I’m not using you to gather intel on one of our clients.”

  I groan and sigh loudly. What does he think? I’m a helpless woman?

  “My personal feelings aside, your father would hurt anyone who put you in danger like that. Since we don’t know exactly what Langston is up to, I do not want you anywhere close to that club.” His eyes are wild, and I can hear the unspoken demand in his voice. “I will kill anyone who puts you in danger or touches you.”

  I bite my lip, hoping he would be reasonable, but that’s not going to happen. This really could work. I don’t know how much of a detective I am, but I’m not against using my feminine wiles to get what I want—what we need—out of him.

  “Baker,” I start.

  “No, Sutton,” he says firmly, and I wince. “I’m sorry. I don’t trust him.”

  “I get it. But I’m an adult. I can do whatever I want, especially if it will help the company. I would hate to be able to help and not do it. This case could ruin the company if it’s not handled correctly and you need someone on the inside in the bar.”

  Baker closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Red, I understand that. But I’m asking you—no, pleading with you—please don’t do this. I don’t feel good about this at all. Plus, Lake could recognize you.”

  I sigh and he releases my hand. We sit awkwardly on the couch in silence and he doesn’t budge at all. I don’t know what else to say, but my gut tells me the other guys would agree. I’m convinced our relationship status—whatever it is—is a huge factor in the way he’s acting.

  “This is why I knew this would be a bad idea,” I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “What?” he asks me.

  “This—us. It’s a bad idea.” I rub my temples, trying to push out the beginnings of a headache.

  “What the hell?” he rages. “Where is this coming from?”

  I scoff and stand up, sick of his tone. I know he’s trying to keep me safe, but I don’t need a keeper. I pace to his desk, back and forth. I need to put some space between us.