by Chiah Wilder
A knock on the door terrified her, and she stilled, frozen with fear against the wall, clutching her fists to her chest as she watched the knob turn slowly.
Smokey walked in, and his brow furrowed as his mouth turned grim.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, approaching her.
Ashley imagined that she looked like a scared little kid, afraid that the bogeyman was going to get her. Pushing away from the wall, she smiled weakly and walked over to her desk and sat down.
“Nothing, really.”
Smokey’s gaze scanned over the closed shades. “Don’t you like the view?”
“It’s a bit bright out,” she mumbled, pretending to look for something in the middle drawer of the desk.
“I just came by to see how you’ve settled in.”
Ashley glanced up. “I’m fine, and you don’t have to check up on me. I always deliver on a job—ask Zach.” The gripping fear of just minutes before evaporated, and annoyance at Smokey’s condescension pricked at her.
“I don’t need to ask Zach shit. I’m just trying to make you feel welcomed, but you can’t see around that big-ass chip on your shoulder.”
“Whatever,” she muttered. “When would you like to go over the proposed marketing campaign? I’ve worked up a couple and would like to know your thoughts.”
“You’re a fast worker.”
“I started on it last week.” Ashley closed the desk drawer and folded her hands on top of the desk mat.
“Zach was right about you being all work but … you gotta play sometimes. What’s the point in living if there isn’t any fun?” He took a few steps closer to her, and she smelled the lingering scents of leather, pine, and crisp air all mingling together to make her pulse pound.
Ashley licked her lips. “My life’s fine the way it is. Anyway, all that matters is the campaign, so, again, when do you want to look over the proposals?”
“I’m taking off—I’ve gotta help out at a job. What about tomorrow?”
“That’ll work.”
“We’ll talk about them over dinner.”
“Wait a minute”—she pointed a finger at him—“I’m not meeting for dinner. We have all day to go over them, and I already told you I’m here to work and not—”
“Don’t get bent outta shape—I’m not asking you on a date. Tomorrow, I need to work all day on a project, so we have to meet after hours. I’m sure Zach told you I work a lot with my crew.”
Ashley felt her cheeks heat, embarrassing her even more, and she looked away. “He did. We could meet at a coffee house.”
“I’ll want dinner.” Standing right next to her chair, he leaned down. “And just for the record—I’m not asking, I’m telling.” His breath fanned her face and goosebumps race over her body.
Scooting the chair away, she glanced at her daily planner. “In that case, I’ll mark it down. What time do you want to get together?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“No—I’ll meet you, and this time, I’m the one who’s telling you.”
Smokey laughed and moved around the desk. Standing in front of her, he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and rocked back on his boot heels.
“I’ll let you think that,” he said, winking. “We’ll meet tomorrow night at six at the Buckhorn.”
Ashley nodded and scribbled the information into the planner.
“Don’t work too hard, ” he said and turned around.
She stared at his well-rounded butt as he walked toward the door. His jeans accentuated those firm cheeks perfectly. Damn.
Just then, as if he’d read her mind, Smokey turned and caught her looking. His gaze locked with hers. Ashley’s breath caught as tiny static charges jumped through her body.
He winked at her and said, “Just so you know, you can check out my ass any time.” One corner of his mouth hitched up, and he swaggered out of the room.
What an asshole! Ashley resisted the urge to pick up the stapler and fling it after him. He’s so damn irritating and arrogant—a total pain in the ass. She shoved some papers into one of the desk drawers and slammed it shut. He makes me so damn mad!
Ashley hated that he’d caught her ogling him in a sexual way. There was just something about him that annoyed the hell out of her yet, at the same time, pulled her in, and she didn’t like that one bit. I don’t want to go there. He’s probably screwed every woman in the office and is vying for his newest conquest—me. No way, Mr. Sexy. No. Fucking. Way.
Ashley pushed away from the desk and looked over at the window. She stood up and grabbed hold of a corner of the shade and peeked out. There was no one by the tree. The only thing she saw were a few people in the lot cleaning off their cars and a snowplow driving by, its yellow light blinking until it faded into the distance.
Pulling on the cord, she raised the shade and shook her head. “I’m losing it,” she said under her breath. There’s no way Jeffrey knows I’m here. I’m just imagining things. That person I saw was probably having a smoke or maybe had car trouble … or a whole bunch of plausible scenarios.
Ashley pulled out a thick file that Zach had given to her before she’d left. It was for a client in Aspen. She’d been so obsessed with learning about the construction business and coming up with a marketing plan for A+ Construction that she hadn’t even looked at the file.
Sighing, she leaned on the desk with one elbow, the palm of her hand supporting her chin. She opened the green folder and dove into the pile of papers.
4
Smokey popped his head into Ashley’s office and frowned when his gaze fell on the empty desk chair. He’d been looking forward to seeing her, expecting her to give him attitude and sass, and he somehow felt cheated. The fact that the sexy woman he’d met at Blue’s Belly had turned out to be the new marketing manager for the construction company blew him away. And the look of shock and then annoyance that had spread across her pretty face when she realized who he was amused the hell out of him.
The distant ringing of the landline in his office prodded Smokey down the hallway.
“Hello?” he said as he sat down in the desk chair.
“Hey, dude. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” Zach said.
“I was helping out at a site where the reception is shit.” Smokey leaned back in the chair.
“Did you have a chance to meet Ashley?”
“Yeah,” he replied while thinking about how hot she looked in her purple skirt and conservative blouse. Damn how I’d love to see what’s under her clothes. His dick twitched and he cleared his throat.
“So, all’s good?”
“I didn’t expect her to be so hot,” Smokey said.
There was a pause for a long second, and then Zach said, “Ashley’s not like the women you’re used to—she’s all business. I’m just giving you the heads up so you don’t make an ass out of yourself.”
Smokey pursed his lips. “You don’t have to watch out for me, dude—I never make an ass outta myself, especially with women.” Visions of Ashley moving her sweet behind against him on the dance floor flashed through his mind. “Besides, every woman has a sexy and needy side to her. That’s just the way they tick.”
“Ashley’s only need is to excel in her career. We’re going to offer her a partnership with the firm, but don’t tell her that.”
“So the chick’s all work and no play?” Smokey wondered what Zach would think if he’d seen his star employee swaying to the music in his arms the other night.
“That’s Ashley in a nutshell. You’ll be impressed by her work—she can deliver.”
I bet she can. Thoughts of ripping off her skirt and bending her over his desk raced across his mind. “I’m sure she’s impressive.”
“Just make sure you don’t overstep here—I know how you are with the ladies.”
“I don’t fuck chicks who work for me. I got plenty outside of my business to keep me
satisfied.”
Zach laughed. “I don’t doubt that
you do. I also don’t think you’re ever going to settle
down.”
“Why the hell would I do that when I’m having so much fun?” Smokey heard a few
clicks over the phone.
“I’ve got to get this incoming call, bro. Let’s talk again soon,” Zach said.
Smokey put the phone on the desk and then slowly swiveled around in his chair and looked out the window at the mountains. I’m betting all-work Ashley needs a real good fucking. The memory of how soft she felt in his arms made him shift in the chair. And I’d like nothing better than to release all that pent-up sexual frustration. He let the fantasy of him buried inside her play in his mind for a few seconds, then he pushed up from the chair and shook his head. That’s never gonna happen.
Smokey had been bullshitting Zach: his rule was to keep his work life separate from his personal one. There had been a few women who’d worked for him in the past who’d been tempting as hell, but he always kept his distance. And there was no way he’d break his rule with Ashley. Even though her smartass sassiness was refreshing, he wouldn’t go there.
“Are you busy?” Sabrina asked as she stood in the doorway.
Smokey looked over his shoulder at her. “Not really. What’s up?”
The receptionist walked into the office, her pink-tipped fingers tugging at the hem of her snug top so as to reveal even more cleavage.
“That woman left early. Isn’t she supposed to stay until five o’clock?” Sabrina’s hazel eyes flashed.
Regret spread through him for the umpteenth time since he’d hired Sabrina against his better judgment. He knew she had a crush on him ever since they’d made out at one of the club parties a couple of years before. At the time, they’d been heading to his room to fuck when they passed by Klutch who’d yelled at Sabrina to get her ass out of the clubhouse. Klutch had told Smokey that she was his cousin and she shouldn’t even be at the party. After that, Smokey kept his distance until Sabrina had come to him begging for a job. She’d said Klutch was cool with it, and after Smokey confirmed that, he’d hired her as a receptionist and had been regretting that move ever since. Whenever a new girl started working in the office, Sabrina gave her attitude, and even though she’d been dating AJ for a couple of years, she still acted like she wanted Smokey.
“Did you hear me? I said she didn’t do any work and left early. Oh … and she was late coming in this morning. I really don’t think she’s going to work out.” The redhead had both hands on her hips as she stood rooted to the spot, glaring.
“Fuck, Sabrina, just chill. Ms. Callahan’s here to do the marketing campaign—she’s not a nine-to-five employee.” He rose to his feet, scooped up his phone, and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans. “And even if she were, all you need to care about is yourself.”
Sabrina’s face softened. “I’m just trying to help because you’re gone from the office so much. I think you need to know what’s going on while you’re not here.” She dropped her hands down and took a few steps toward him. “You know I care about you.”
“Don’t.” Smokey switched off his computer and fixed his eyes on hers. “I’ve never liked snitches.”
The color in her face drained. “I’m not a snitch—you must know that.”
“I know that you give every new female employee a hard time for no fuckin’ reason. Either get a damn grip or get another job.”
The receptionist’s lower lip trembled slightly. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help. I love working here. We make a good team, right?”
“You and AJ make a good team, but”—he waved his hand back and forth between them—“we don’t. You work here and I pay you—that’s all.” Smokey ran his hand through his hair. “Give Ms. Callahan respect.”
“I’m respectful, but she just didn’t make a very good impression. And I do consider you and me a team … at work.”
“Sabrina?” AJ’s voice echoed up the corridor.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Sabrina said as she crept closer to the desk.
“I’m irritated. I need you to act professionally at work.”
“Sabrina?” AJ said again.
“I’ll respect Ms. Callahan and help her out as much as I can,” she said.
Smokey doubted the sincerity of her words, and the tight smile on her face was as fake as hell. “Just do your job and don’t worry about what Ms. Callahan or anyone else in the office is doing.”
“Even if they’re dissing you or the company behind your back?” The plastic smile widened.
“Sabrina!” AJ yelled.
Smokey narrowed his eyes and strode over to Sabrina and pointed at the open door. “Your boyfriend’s getting on my fuckin’ nerves, so go on and get out. Now.”
Her lips twisted into a grimace. “You can be a real asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“There you are,” AJ said as he poked his head through the doorway, a mop of blond hair falling over his forehead. “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”
“No, I didn’t,” Sabrina said as she cut her eyes to him.
“Are you still working?” AJ shifted his gaze to Smokey.
“Nope—you guys can take off,” Smokey said.
“Great,” AJ said, looking over at Sabrina and breaking into a big smile that exposed a mouthful of crooked teeth.
The receptionist’s brow furrowed and her lips pursed as she stared at Smokey. He turned away and walked over to a file cabinet near the window. Ignoring the two of them, he rifled through the folders until he came across the one he needed. From the corner of his eye, he saw AJ grab Sabrina’s hand and tug her out of the room.
Smokey tucked the file under his arm, zipped up his leather jacket, switched off the light, and headed out of the building.
When he entered the clubhouse, the heat began to melt the snowflakes from his hair and clothes. The tangy aroma of barbecue sauce flavored the air, and Smokey’s stomach growled as he made his way to the bar. A shot of whiskey sat on the counter calling his name. Putting his lips to the glass rim, he threw it back and enjoyed the smooth fieriness sliding down his throat, warming his belly.
The big room was nearly empty except for Wendy and Tania, who stood at a window watching the flakes fall … and Ruben and Lola. The club member was banging the hell out of the club girl, and each time he shoved into her, his wrinkled ass would tighten. Smokey chuckled under his breath as he imagined what Ruben’s old lady, Doris, would say if she ever found out about his early evening workout. Doris had said she was cool with him having dalliances with the club girls as long as it was only once or twice a month, but she always made a scene if she found out he was actually fucking one of the women. As far as Smokey could remember, Ruben had met his twice-a-month quota the first week of the month. Yeah, Doris will nail your ass good if she finds out. He chuckled again and brought another shot of Jack to his lips.
Of course, Doris wouldn’t find out because none of the brothers would say shit about it—their loyalty lay with the club members, not their old ladies. For the most part, the club girls didn’t care for the old ladies and the feeling was pretty mutual, especially between Doris and Lola. It worked out best when the club girls stayed out of sight any time the old ladies came to the club for family functions, and if one of the wives or girlfriends happened to drop by to see their old man during the day, the club women would scatter, showing that they knew their place in the club’s hierarchy.
The last thing any of the members wanted was bullshit between the two groups of women, and if it spilled over into their world, they’d always stand by a brother’s old lady, but that didn’t give them the right to lay down rules concerning the club girls. The club was for the members only, and the women, old ladies and club whores, were there by invitation. In the outlaw world’s testosterone-driven life, women were second-class citizens—that was just the way it was and always would be.
A gust of cold air swirled into the room, and Smokey looked o
ver at the door and saw Klutch, Helm, and Rags walk in. They swaggered over to Smokey and bumped fists with him.
“You must be working your ass off today,” Smokey said as he picked up his third shot of whiskey.
Rags nodded then peeled off his gloves. “I wish the damn snow would just stop for good. We’ve been going back and forth all day. Just when we get shit cleared, it starts up again. It’s really coming down now.” He and Throttle owned a landscaping company, and snow plowing was the bulk of their business during the winter- and early-spring months.
“You got enough people working?” Smokey curled his fingers around the glass.
“Yeah—we pay better than the other snowplow companies, so that helps. Throttle got us a bunch of new contracts, which means we’re too fuckin’ busy.” He glanced over at Ruben and snorted. “How long has he been at it?”
Smokey shrugged. “Not sure—he was fucking when I got here about twenty minutes ago.”
“I’d love for his old lady to walk in on this,” Klutch said. “She’s always trying to start shit up with the other old ladies and make them feel like their old men are fucking around.”
“She’s a bitch.” Helm lowered his voice.
“I’ll drink to that.” Smokey held up his glass and tossed it back.
The men picked up the drinks the prospect put on the bar, then brought them to their mouths.
“Bones told me you got a chick from Denver to do your marketing,” Klutch said as he gestured for another Jack.
“Yeah, so?” Smokey leaned against the bar, his elbows propped up, the heel of his boot planted on the brass rail near the floor.
A small crease crossed Klutch’s forehead. “Why the fuck are you pissed?”
“I’m not,” Smokey replied, staring straight ahead.
“You’re acting like you are.” Klutch pressed his lips against the beer bottle and took a drink.
“Maybe he’s bummed ’cause she’s not a looker.” Rags scooped up a handful of nuts and trickled them into his mouth.
“Is that it?” Klutch asked.
“I didn’t pay attention. We work together.” Smokey’s jaw clenched.