Sexton Brothers Boxset

by Lauren Runow

  When she looked at me with those hazel eyes and Cupid’s bow mouth, saying how beautiful she thought it was up there, I almost replied, So are you.

  Thank God I didn’t. She’s an employee and I have a strict rule against that, but I’m starting to think some rules are meant to be broken.

  It’s rare for a girl to work her way into my thoughts the way she has. I think it’s her sass. Being a Sexton sometimes has its drawbacks, and hooking up with women can be sometimes too easy. Normally, they’re willing to drop their pants just to get in my wallet.

  Not Jalynn.

  She doesn’t want a thing from me, which makes me want to show her the world. Getting in her pants would be worth opening my wallet for.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Bryce asks, interrupting my dirty thoughts about his assistant.

  “Always good to see you, too, brother.”

  He looks at me with a wary eye as he walks behind his desk. “Last week, I couldn’t get you to answer my calls. Now, you’re here, unannounced, for the second morning in a row.”

  I hate when he’s right. “There’s no winning with you.”

  He narrows his eyes, as if he’s working through a puzzle in his head. “You’re not drinking.”

  “I don’t drink every day,” I say defensively, causing him to accusatorily raise a brow. “You know what your problem is? You need to get laid.”

  His posture stiffens. “What I do on my personal time is none of your business.”

  “Did I touch on a soft spot? What’s the matter? No assistants to …” My words trail off as my attention goes right to the door where Jalynn is seated on the other side.

  Bryce doesn’t seem to notice my distraction. “It only happened twice, so stop making it seem like I sleep with all of my assistants. And, for the record, I didn’t sleep with the last one, so it would do us both a world of good if you stopped spreading rumors.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter.

  “Just tell me you actually did something today besides think about my damn love life.”

  His love life?

  I rapidly blink my eyes and try to figure out what the fuck my brother is talking about. When it comes to Bryce, the words love and life aren’t synonymous with one another. He’s driving on autopilot to becoming the world’s first living heart donor.

  I throw the file I’m holding onto his desk, Frisbee-style. “Finalized and signed. Yes, that’s the Under Armour account. They’re taking digital and print ads out on all platforms. You’re welcome.”

  We’ve been working on this account all year, and at one point, Bryce swore, it was a waste of time. Maybe now he’ll get off my back.

  He opens the file, verifying what I already told him. Tossing it back to the desk with a nod, he goes back to typing on his computer like what I just said wasn’t a huge deal.

  “That’s it? No, Hey, good job, little bro?”

  “You want me to kiss your ass for doing your job?”

  “No, I want you to kiss my ass for saving that account.”

  “You could have just emailed it to me.”

  “And miss seeing the happiness and joy on your face?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “As always, nice chatting with you.” I exit the room, shaking off the feeling that he tends to leave me with and am confronted with another awkward feeling. Disappointment.

  Bryce’s quick-tongued assistant is not at her desk. I peer into the newsroom but don’t see her in there either. I could go on a stalking mission, but that would be … well, stalking. Instead, I head to get a cup of coffee.

  I’m walking down the hall when my cell phone rings. Tanner, with his ridiculous man bun, shows up on my screen.

  “Please tell me you’ve cut that hair of yours,” I say as I answer.

  “Most people start conversations by saying hello,” he says with a laugh.

  “Not my style. What’s up, little man? Counting down your final days of freedom?”

  Tanner is set to graduate from Columbia in a few months, and once he does, it’ll be a lifetime of doom and Sexton Media for him.

  “Something like that. You sound like you’re on the run. Did I disrupt anything?”

  “I’m on my way to get coffee from the break room.”

  “You hate coffee,” he declares. “Are you stalking a chick?”

  “No, I am not stalking a chick.” I wave off the insinuation. “For the record, women stalk me.”

  “You know, there are better ways to get a girl’s number than following her into the break room.”

  “Again, I’m not following anyone. She might not even be in there.” I immediately smack my head at my quasi-confession.

  Tanner laughs out loud. “You need to stop watching old spy movies and read some classics.”

  I chuckle to myself. Tanner has always been the most touchy-feely one of the three of us. His artsy ways show through in everything he does, and I wonder sometimes if he’s actually related to us at all. But I know he gets every aspect of who he is from our mother.

  Since he was the baby in the family, she spent the most time cuddled up on the couch with him. She knew he was her last son she could do that with, so it seemed like she took advantage, trying to make up for every moment she’d missed with us.

  “Not all of us read Shakespeare for fun,” I deadpan.

  “Obviously. And I was thinking some Jane Austen, not Shakespeare. You were named after her, you know.”

  “Were you calling for any other reason than to bust my balls?”

  “Not really. I’m on my way to class. Call me when you’re done stalking.”

  “All right. Later, T.”

  “Love ya, A.”

  After I place my phone in my pocket, I straighten my tie and try to look casual. When I enter the break room, it’s to the sight of the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen. She’s bent over, looking in the refrigerator. I lean against the doorframe to take her in.

  “Oh, sorry, Mr. Sexton,” Rosie, another employee, bumps into me on her way into the room.

  Thud.

  “Ouch. Damn it,” Jalynn cries.

  I turn to see her rubbing her head where it must have smacked against the top of the fridge.

  “You okay there, Pyle?”

  Her eyes narrow, and I grin in response.

  “Please, stop calling me that, and”—she rubs her head—“I’m fine.”

  “Yes, you are, but your head doesn’t look okay.” I approach her, laying my hands on her head to examine her bump. The skin is pink around her hairline, so I tenderly run a thumb over it to see if it hurts her.

  I can feel her body quiver and then stiffen as she pulls away, glaring at me.

  “Isn’t this sexual harassment?”

  “Making sure my employee is okay after she hit her head? No, not at all.”

  “So, you take care of all your employees like this?” Her teeth graze that lip again.

  I see Rosie making coffee in the Keurig, and I bring her in to have someone on my side. She used to work in my department until she got promoted, and we love to rile each other, so she knows I’m all fun and games at the office.

  “Rosie, how long have you known me?” I ask her.

  “Long enough to know I’ve never seen you in here,” she says with an expressive grin.

  “Would I ever do something that borders on sexual harassment?”

  She lets out a quick, hardy laugh. “I’m staying out of this one.” With her coffee now made, she reaches out her hand to Jalynn. “I’m Rosie, by the way. You’re new here, right?”

  Jalynn takes her hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jalynn, Bryce’s new assistant.”

  “Ah …” She pauses, taking a sip of her coffee before glancing over to me with a knowing look. “In that case, Austin is the good brother. It’s Bryce you have to worry about.”

  Jalynn’s eyes go big.

  I sit back on my heels. “See? I’m the chivalrous one. Thank you, Rosie.”

  “Now, I didn’t sa
y that.” She hits my arm. “By the way, good work on securing the Sergeant Miller interview. I heard that’s going to happen.” She gives me a motherly pat on the cheek and opens the door. “Good luck, Jalynn. It was nice to meet you.”

  “You, too,” she replies before tilting her head down and suspiciously eyeing me. “You’re the good brother?”

  “Apparently. But don’t take my word for it,” I state with a grin, thumbing toward the door where Rosie just walked out of, but Jalynn’s not laughing as she runs her hand across her forehead. “Seriously. Is your head okay?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.” She offers a small smile. “Just one of those mornings.”

  I nod and watch as she walks over to the counter and grabs a coffee pod from the drawer. I rub my chest as a nagging thought hits me in the gut. “Can I ask something of you?”

  She gives me a wary eye. “Depends.”

  I lean my hip against the counter and sink my hands into my pockets. “Don’t sleep with Bryce.”

  She nearly drops the mug she just took out of the cabinet. “Excuse me?”

  “In the past, he’s had an assistant or two try to get him in bed. It must be the Sexton sex appeal. I mean, I get it. We’re pretty fucking good-looking.”

  I’m making a joke, but she’s not laughing. She’s just looking at me like I’m the biggest asshole in the world for insinuating that she wants to sleep with my brother, who is also her boss.

  I lean over and hit the button for the machine to make her coffee. “Say something.”

  Her shoulders fall back, and her chin rises. “Austin Sexton, I have a million things to say, but while your comment was wildly inappropriate, I will respect the fact that you are my employer, so I will keep it to this. My sex life is none of your business.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She goes to turn but then thinks twice and points a finger at me. “I don’t know what you have against your brother, but he has been nothing but courteous to me. Standoffish and quite frankly stoic at times, but he is a good man. You, on the other hand, just can’t seem to keep your damn thoughts to yourself.”

  “Well, I—”

  Her cheeks redden. “And, if I did want to sleep with him or anyone in this company, it wouldn’t matter what you thought about it.”

  “So, you do want to sleep with him?”

  She stomps her foot. “No!”

  “But you just said—”

  “Don’t say it, or I will pour this hot coffee all over your thousand-dollar suit,” she threatens with her mug held high in her hand, and I believe her.

  I sway to the side. “Actually, it’s a five-thousand-dollar suit.”

  She lets out a harrumph. “You’re incorrigible.”

  I watch her leave, and I kick the closest thing next to me, which happens to be the garbage pail. Trash falls all over the floor, and I curse out loud as I take a knee and clean it up. Yes, me, in the suit I just bragged about, picking up other people’s garbage.

  If Jalynn were here, she’d tell me that it serves me right. She’d also get down here with me and lend a hand because she’s a decent person. Too decent for a guy like me.

  I stand up and wash my hands in the sink, noticing she left her purse sitting on the counter, wide open, showing feminine hygiene products lying across the top. I know her reaction to what I said is not because she’s hormonal, but I’m sure it didn’t help.

  In all my years as a single guy, I haven’t had to deal with a girl during her time of the month. The only experience I have is from my mother explaining it to me when I was ten.

  I remember coming home from school, dropping my backpack on the ground, and declaring at the top of my lungs that girls were disgusting. When she asked what had brought out this sudden change of heart, I explained what we had learned about in school that day. The look on her face was unforgettable. With a pout, I crossed my arms in front of my chest as I listened to my mother say something I’d never forget.

  “Don’t put down the things you don’t understand. A woman’s heart and body are far stronger than a man’s. That’s why God gave her the ability to do something that you cannot—create a life. And I’ll be damned if I let you grow up to be the kind of person who runs away from a girl just because of what is happening with her body.”

  “What am I supposed to do then when this disgusting thing happens?”

  “You buy her candy.”

  I open the refrigerator door and see a container marked Jalynn. Inside are a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple. I grab her purse and her lunch and decide it’s time I do exactly as my mother instructed.

  10

  JALYNN

  Let’s go over all the ways today sucks, shall we?

  First, I missed my bus and was late to the office, only to arrive and realize I forgot my security badge and had to go through the process of getting a temporary one before finally getting upstairs.

  I messed up my morning analytics report for Bryce and accidentally copied my cable bill, which I brought to work to pay on my free time, and had it bound in between Bryce’s proposal for his nine o’clock meeting.

  I’ve had cramps all morning, and I’m stressed, trying to learn the ins and outs of this place. I reach for my purse and realize I don’t have it. Trying not to freak out, I think back to retrace my steps.

  I enter the break room and where I’m positive I left my bag, is now bare of everything, except for a few plastic cups stacked neatly. Checking the fridge for my lunch, I see a note taped to my Tupperware container. Correction, it’s a ransom note printed in a way to have each letter look like it was cut out of a magazine.

  I have your purse.

  Come to lunch with me, or you’ll never see me naked.

  There’s only one person who would leave such a ridiculous note. From the high-gloss paper and way the letters are printed, I know it was made in the advertising department.

  Still, he’s not winning any brownie points with me.

  I remove the note and open the container, where I see he’s dumped my food, leaving it completely empty. Anger fuels my rage, and I storm out, heading straight to his office.

  Yes, I agree, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich isn’t much of a lunch, but I haven’t gotten my first paycheck yet, and my budget is paper-thin until I do. People have cable bills to pay, you know.

  Austin’s assistant is outside his office and rises from her desk when she sees me coming. “Hi, Jalynn,” she cheerfully greets me, surprising the hell out of me.

  I’m fuming mad and ready to barge into his office with an epic speech, but my manners get the best of me, so I stop and reply, “Hi. I’m sorry. I forgot your name.”

  “I’m Stefanie. We never officially met at the meeting your first day. I take it, you’re here for your purse.” She pushes her glasses up her nose with a giggle.

  “How did you know?”

  “Austin told me you’d stop by, and when he flung a black purse over his shoulder, I figured it was yours.” She gives a little eye roll in jest. Clearly, she has a good relationship with Austin and finds him quite … charming.

  “Is he always this frustrating?” I ask.

  “Coming from the woman who works under Bryce Sexton? I always felt lucky that I got the easy brother. Austin seems one-dimensional, but he’s actually really complex. Once he lets you into his self-proclaimed circle of trust, you realize that he’s actually amazing to work with.”

  “His circle of trust? He has a movie reference for everything.”

  “Yep, and he doesn’t let many people into it.” She sits back in her chair, crossing her arms and assessing me from head to toe. “You’ve caught his attention though, which is amusing to me.”

  I try to figure out if this is a mean-girl situation or if she’s being sincere. The look on her face is nice, friendly. Even so, I’m hoping it’s the latter, but I’m not one to let things be.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what to think of that.”

  “Austin is one of the
most eligible bachelors around, but I’ve never seen him look twice at an employee here. Most of us get his antics on a daily basis, but we’ve been here for a while and know it’s all for fun. I get the feeling, it’s different with you.”

  “Great,” I huff out.

  “Yes, it is great. Take advantage. He’s a good guy, and pretty much every employee here would love to be in your shoes. Well, except me because I’m married”—she holds up her ring finger—“which is why I’m his assistant. He doesn’t like to mix business with pleasure. It seems, until you.”

  I stare at her, shocked by how open this conversation turned so quickly.

  “He’s expecting you. Go on in.” She shoos me off with a tilt of her head and turns back to her computer, effectively ending our little chat.

  I mutter, “Thanks,” under my breath and open the door to his office.

  He’s sitting at his desk with a pen in hand and an open binder. His eyes glance up to meet with mine. My chest tightens, and my body flushes at the beautiful man staring back at me.

  I close the door behind me with a thud and fall against the weight of it.

  We stay locked on each other for a few breaths before he stands to come closer.

  As he walks toward me, my mind is frozen by the way his large frame fills the room, feeling like it takes up every inch and surrounding my entire view. I imagine him in his military fatigues—all broad shoulders and strong thighs under a uniform of honor—and I have to clench my legs to stop the sudden ache.

  I’ve never been affected by the presence of a man the way I am with him.

  Gah! Fine, I admit it. I’m attracted to him. So damn attracted.

  His chin rises as he marches over, authoritative. Every step feels like it’s vibrating my very being.

  I push my back against the door, taking a deep breath as he steps up so close, and I feel his warmth pour all over me.

  “You have my purse,” I say with a swallow when his hand presses against the door, trapping me in.

  “I also have your apology,” he says. His eyes look around my face, taking me in with every pass. His mouth parts, and the tiny pulse of his neck is beating wildly. “I shouldn’t have told you not to sleep with Bryce.”