There was a knowing look in his eye, one that said he knew what I was doing and that he’d let me get away with it. For the moment. He settled on the corner of my desk once more, seeming quite comfortable there too as he told me, “My brother. He’s a vet.”
I didn’t think he meant veterinary surgeon—a soldier. Well, if he looked like Max who was huge, then that made sense. I licked my lips again, tasting the traces of sugar-sweet coffee on them. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. My brother’s never been the same since he came back from that last tour.” Max’s eyes turned inward, almost like he was seeking something from his memory banks. Then, he shook his head, dispelling whatever it was, and murmured, “His flashbacks are far more aggressive. With you, you’d barely know. If I hadn’t seen the signs on him, I wouldn’t have recognized them in you.”
There was no doubt in his voice, and his arrogance irritated me. “Maybe I wasn’t having a flashback.”
He snorted. “We both know that’s a lie, Ms. Barr. Or may I call you Jessica?”
There was a grimace to his lips as he said my name, and it had me rearing back in surprise. I knew it was inappropriate, but nothing about my encounter with this man had been appropriate so far.
“You don’t like my name.” I made the statement blunt, as had he. Not allowing him any wiggle room. Something I knew he’d appreciate.
His interactions with Derek had shown me the man didn’t appreciate sycophants.
That grin appeared, quick as a flash and just as blinding. “Well spotted.” He reached for his own coffee, took a deep sip and sighed.
“I had an ex called Jessica. She was, to put it frankly, psychotic.” The grin appeared again, and God help me, it did things to my insides. “I have a habit of picking up psychotic girlfriends. I’ve made it an art form.”
“Psychotic is a strong adjective,” I said uneasily.
“Trust me, it’s fitting. And I don’t say it to be mean.” He rubbed his chin, and the gesture made not a whisper of sound, which told me his jaw was as silky smooth as it looked. “Jessica tried to set fire to my apartment.”
I gasped. “She set fire to your home?”
He nodded, but there was no anger on his face. That surprised me—most people wouldn’t exactly be happy that someone had tried to burn down their damn home. If anything, he seemed bemused, contemplative as he thought back to what had to be a traumatic time in his life.
“She did. She wasn’t happy when I ended the relationship. That was probably the most memorable break up I’ve ever had.”
His cheerfulness confused me.
“What’s the least memorable?” I said under my breath. If attempted arson was on the high end, I could only imagine the low end.
He hummed under his breath, seeming to take my question seriously. “I have a Yorkshire Terrier. One ex tried to steal him.” He growled. “Bitch.”
It amused me that that agitated him more than the arson attempt. If anything, it warmed me. He had a dog and he loved it; how sweet was that?
“That’s low end?”
“Oh, I have a veritable littering of bad relationships in my past,” he informed me. “It’s why Derek’s always uneasy when he sees me talking to a normal woman.”
“A normal woman?” I asked, squeaking a little because I knew he was referring to me with the ‘normal’ part.
There was nothing normal about me. Hadn’t been for too damn long.
He hummed his agreement. “Indeed. There are two kinds of women, Jessica.” It didn’t escape my attention that he used my name without my giving him permission to use it—but hell, what was I going to do? He was my damn boss. I couldn’t stop him, could I?
One never could with bosses…
Although, that vibe had me relaxing again. I could tell him I wasn’t comfortable with him using my first name, just like I’d told Derek. He still called me Ms. Barr even though he’d informed me he wanted me to use his first name. He hadn’t even blinked when I hadn’t made a similar offer.
His words stirred the curiosity inside me. Curiosity I had no right in feeling, but it was there, nonetheless. And after way too long of feeling too damn little, I had to ask. “There are?”
He hummed his agreement again. “There is the kind who know you just want sex, then there’s the kind who don’t know.”
I frowned. “And the latter is normal?”
“Exactly,” he told me, sounding pleased I understood.
“And what does the ‘normal kind’ not know?”
“Well, I suppose what I mean is they believe there’s the potential for more than just sex. Potential that is earned without sex, and without hope of gold lining their pockets at some point along the way. Normal.” He grinned again, like that made perfect sense, but all my sense had been knocked out of the park at the sight of that grin. I had to hold back a gasp when the power of it was aimed my way.
He was just so handsome.
With that kind of jet black hair that only movie stars seemed to have and bright blue eyes that belonged in a Husky, not a living breathing man.
As I questioned whether the hair color came from a bottle, I watched him take another sip, and even though I knew it wasn’t my place to ask, I couldn’t stop myself from continuing this decidedly risqué conversation. “Who decides if a relationship is going to be more though? You or the woman?”
He seemed to ponder that a second. “Isn’t it both?”
“Well, usually, but I just didn’t read that from your inflection.”
“What did you read?” he asked, narrowing his gaze at me.
“Well, that the woman decided.” Which had to be bullshit, because no man who looked like this, had a reputation and the wealth to back it, ever let the women in his life have a say.
He nodded. “Yeah, they do.”
That had me snorting; and considering myself lucky that I hadn’t taken a sip of coffee at the same time—that would have been embarrassing in front of anyone. Not just my sexpot boss. “You wait on your partner?”
“Yeah. However, most of the time, I don’t frequent places where I’d find a partner as you phrased it.”
Shaking my head and wondering exactly how we’d started on a topic that was so beyond the ordinary we’d entered ‘supernatural’ territory, I decided to take a leaf from Derek’s book—I cleared my throat.
“I don’t think we should be talking about things like this.”
He cocked a brow. “You don’t? Why not?”
“Because it’s not appropriate?” I hated the squeak that had once again entered my voice.
He waved a hand. “You don’t work for me. I don’t have to worry about the usual rules.”
For a second, I wasn’t sure whether to be worried, terrified, or amused—he had balls, I had to give him that.
“I do work for you,” I felt the need to insist.
“Nope,” he said, that cheerful tone back in his voice. “You work for the agency. I just happen to pay their bill.”
“Which means I work for you.”
“Yes. But the same regulations don’t apply. For example, I could date you and there wouldn’t be an issue.”
“What kind of issue?” I asked, and having read through my contractual obligations—kinda my specialty—I recognized that he wasn’t wrong.
Notice my wording there.
He wasn’t wrong, but nor was he right.
“Do I look like a creeper to you, Jessica?”
“A creeper?”
“One of those bosses who lechs over their employees, making inappropriate comments and staring down their blouses as they do so?”
For a second, I was dumbfounded because the man had done nothing but make inappropriate comments. But, and it was another huge but, he hadn’t looked down my blouse.
Not once.
He hadn’t made any lewd remarks, just unusual ones. I didn’t feel threatened by his presence, even though his big body was taking up a huge chunk of my desk, and I was literally cornered
thanks to the desk’s location in the office. I didn’t feel scared or worried… and I’d been nothing but for the last two years.
As a result of those startling realizations, I slowly shook my head. “No. You’re not a lech.”
He beamed at me. “I knew you liked me.”
Despite myself, I had to laugh—he sounded so pleased. “Is that important? For me to like you, I mean.”
“Of course,” he told me, his tone utterly serious. “How could I get you to go on a date with me if you didn’t like me?”
Well, he had me there.
“Date you?” I asked, feeling confounded, and getting another feeling that that was going to be par for the course when I was around this man.
I felt like he was a hurricane and, in his presence, I would constantly be in the eye of his storm.
Surprisingly enough, that thought didn’t scare me further. Nothing about this man scared me, and he should.
He was talking about dating. He was my boss. He was in a position of power, and I’d learned first-hand that those in power often won out. Their wants streaming over the minions around them, almost like they existed in a different subspace.
But, Max Greene was different.
I wasn’t sure why, but my body was.
“You know what a date is, Jessica,” he told me blandly. “I don’t need to explain that to you, do I? Or attraction?”
I pursed my lips. “No, I’ve managed to figure out what they are.”
“Well then,” he declared, getting to his feet, “that settles it. I’ll pick you up at seven. Email me your address so I know where to aim the chauffeur.”
My mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?” I asked to his retreating back.
He looked over his shoulder. “What is it, Jessica?” he asked, sounding concerned.
My mouth worked like a goldfish’s for a second. “N-Nothing.” And when he beamed that smile at me, I knew I hadn’t lied.
Nothing was wrong.
I just wasn’t sure why.
Chapter 3
Max
The car pulled up to a ratty building in a ratty part of the city. My dates of late had all lived in the more pleasant areas—in buildings with a monthly community charge that probably doubled the annual rent on a place like this.
As I eyed the entrance, then shifted my gaze to take in the buildings either side and the people loitering, I knew I was grateful I had a driver and that I wouldn’t have to worry for my hubcaps.
Strange, wasn’t it?
People in decent areas meandered. In the rougher areas, they loitered. As though the two acts weren’t the same. But here, indeed, they were loitering and hovering around the doorway to the building Jessica had emailed me the details of earlier. It was in a way that had my hackles rising.
I wasn’t overly aggressive; not anymore. As a kid, I’d funneled my energy into football, eventually getting a college scholarship out of that odd rage all teenagers seemed to have in abundance. Now? Now, I funneled it into business.
But, the way the guys were hanging around… it made me think of things I’d seen as a kid. Things I recognized. Drug dealers. Robbers waiting on marks.
Waiting on Jessica?
They’d better not be.
I grimaced as I peered up the squat building with its peeling façade and mottled walls. Was this all temps could afford? This dump?
Surely not.
I’d looked into her resume earlier, seen nothing amiss. I wasn’t entirely sure why she’d asked me if I’d seen it. The flustered anger in her tone told me there was something she was hiding, but I hadn’t found anything. Shit, Derek wouldn’t have hired her if there was anything wrong with her so why she’d jumped to that immediate conclusion, I wasn’t entirely sure.
The thought had puzzled me all day. Well, until I’d shoved it aside to deal with a new merger Avalon was engaging in.
I said merger, but it was more like a takeover.
Not a particularly friendly one, either.
Still, Avalon needed the tech patents Drydal owned, and if they weren’t willing to play nice, I was willing to play hardcore.
Movement from the doorway garnered my attention when I saw one of the guys in a hoodie, jeans around his upper thighs, and more gold around his neck than a jewelers shift on his feet. There was either a deal in the making approaching or a cop.
From the way he rubbed his palms together and didn’t run off, I assumed the former over the latter.
Shit, I knew what Jessica was making with Avalon. It was the standard temp salary—surely she could afford somewhere better than this dump?
Even as I asked myself the question, I said to Mackenzie, “I’ll be five minutes.”
“Of course, sir.” My chauffeur managed to sound, for once, positively servile when, the truth was, Mackenzie didn’t have a servile bone in his body.
I had a chauffeur for two reasons. One, Mackenzie had needed the job. Two, Mackenzie had needed the job.
The old man had pride, would never have accepted charity even from me, so I’d created a position for him, and he’d been with me ever since. I didn’t exactly regret the decision, but he could be a pain in my ass and no mistaking.
There was no way I’d ever get a big head with Derek, Alex, and Mackenzie around.
Climbing out of the car, I buttoned my coat against the wind chill. I’d once heard that Chicago was called the Windy City because of all the hot air politicians spewed, but I called bullshit.
I’d come here at eighteen to go to college, and I’d never known anywhere colder than this. Saying that, I was a Florida native, so it didn’t say much for my internal temperature gauge. That first year here, I swear, I’d never gotten warm. Even in the hottest of rooms, some part of me, my feet or even my butt, had been frozen solid.
Shivering at the memory, a shiver that was turbocharged thanks to a shrill gust of wind that about knocked my teeth out as they chattered, I rushed toward the building’s entrance. The dealers eyed me, and I could see the shark in their nature rear to the surface. The notion that they might jump me had me smirking, and that smirk had them jerking back a step.
I’d told them, visually, to bring it, and they weren’t willing to bring shit to this party.
Movement in the doorway had me looking away from the scum hanging around. Maybe it should have surprised me to see Jessica heading out toward me, but it didn’t. I had the feeling she didn’t want me to see her place, and I could understand that.
Jessica, for all she was sexy with that silky hair and endless curves, screamed…
I sighed.
Hell, she screamed things that made me want to scream myself.
Not in a good way either.
Someone had hurt her, and that, in turn, made me want to hurt somebody else.
Was that what she’d thought I’d see on her resume?
I’d accessed the files on her past, the routine security check all employees—permanent and temporary—went through hadn’t screamed anything. The basic screening showed no convictions, no arrests; hell, not even a parking ticket. She was normal. Every part of her. And yet, I knew.
I’d been around women too much in my life not to have seen that look on their face.
There’d been my sister’s best friend, Janie, who’d been mauled by one of the dealers in our building. My next door neighbor and her daughter had shared a similar fate, but by the mother’s pimp. Some days, it felt like only my sister and mother had been safe and I knew that was because of the size both me and my brother shared. Anyone messed with them, they messed with us. That had kept my family safe, but even though I’d tried to help and protect those around me, I couldn’t protect every woman against the male race.
It had hurt me then, that lack, and it hurt me now.
Jessica, like countless women before her, knew. She knew what it was like to have her choice ripped away from her, knew what it was like to fear half the male population. She knew that, when push came to shove, she could be attacked a
nd could be hurt and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone would do about it.
My throat felt thick at the thought, and I sucked down a shaky breath even as I lifted my arm and waved at her as I headed towards her.
“You didn’t have to wait on me. I’d have come to your door.” My tone was bland, but that I’d remarked upon it at all had her shooting me a wary glance.
“No worries,” she said brightly, but again, she stared at me from the corner of her eye as we huddled into our coats and rushed against the bracing chill.
I quickly opened the car door when we approached the vehicle, letting her duck in and then swiftly climbing in after her.
My move surprised her. She chuckled as she moved down the seat, stopping when she was behind the driver and not the passenger seat.
“It was too cold to go around the car,” I complained with a sheepish grin. It was dark out, but the yellow-orange fluorescent lights peered in through the windows and I could see her smile back at me.
“It takes a long time to get used to the cold here,” she excused. “I’ll assume you’re not from here?” The question came on the back of Mackenzie snorting.
If I’m being honest, it pissed me off that she was relieved to have someone in the car with me. But, equally, if it helped her relax, who was I to complain? And Mackenzie had a way about him that made everyone relax.
“Boy’s been here for nearly fifteen years, ma’am. If he ain’t used to the cold now, he ain’t never going to be.”
Jessica laughed. “I fear he’s right. Where are you from?”
“You didn’t google me?” I asked, mocking outrage as the car took off.
Her lips twitched. “I managed to beat back my curiosity.”
“More’s the pity.” I winked at her. “You’d have found out a lot of interesting stuff.” And some less interesting things that were probably working for me when it came to her not having looked me up online.
Not that I’d done anything that bad, but hell, the gossip rags always did vilify a man if he dared to have a social life.
Cherishing Her: A Protector Office Romance Page 3