Work Violation (Cook County Book 2)

by BJ Harvey

  “Wanna talk about it?” I ask, turning serious for a spell.

  “Nah,” he says, taking another swig of his beer. “It’s just a communication breakdown. Or more like a lack of communication.” He pauses and I think he’s done. But he’s not. “I mean, you think you’re on the same page, and then suddenly it seems you’re reading an entirely different book.”

  “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone?” Jamie says.

  “I’m not. Don’t worry about it. I’m just venting.”

  “Well, whenever you wanna unload, you know where we are,” Bry adds, saying it for all of us.

  “Right. Well, if we’re done with the brotherly bonding portion of this break, should we get back to it?” Ezra says, changing the subject.

  “I do have one thing I need to ask you about. Not Ronnie-related. It’s more unwanted attention from a student.” That gets Bryant’s attention.

  “And you didn’t tell me about this because?” he asks, quirking a brow.

  “Because I’ve been trying to ignore it but my gut feeling about it isn’t going away.”

  “Okay. So, what has she done?” he asks,

  “Nothing much. Yet. She called in during my office hours on Thursday to ask questions about her grade for the last assignment. I know it comes with the job, and both you and Joey warned me about being aware of certain situations and avoiding others. It’s hard to explain. She made it clear that she really wanted to do well in the class and would love any chance to earn extra credit and improve on her performance.”

  “Okay…”

  I swallow hard before continuing, because this is the part that concerns me the most. “She also mentioned being willing to meet me off-campus for one-on-one help like I gave Ronnie.”

  “Shit,” Cohen says, shaking his head.

  “What’s her name?” Bryant asks, grabbing my attention.

  “Chelsea B—”

  “Ah, yep. She’s a real piece of work, and you might wanna tread carefully,” he says.

  “Really? What do you know?”

  “Nothing, except she was in one of my classes last year and she was rather obvious in her intentions where I was involved.”

  My eyes widen. “You never said anything.”

  Bry shrugs. “There wasn’t much to say. I shut it and her down straight away and let the dean know in case anything came of it. But all you can do is make sure that everything you do is beyond reproach.” He narrows his gaze. “And not to say you’re not doing it already, but that includes anything to do with Ronnie.”

  “We’ve done everything right in that regard. It was probably just unfortunate that Ronnie happened to call by my office when Chelsea was leaving on Thursday.”

  “And did she say anything to Ronnie?”

  “No. I think the look she gave her said it all. I had to dismiss Ronnie and text her later to explain.”

  “Was she okay with that?” Jamie asks.

  I smile now. “Yeah. She read the situation, and even said she noticed Chelsea watching her in our class on Monday and in another class they have together.”

  “Well, the semester is almost over, right?” Ez says. “So not long to go.”

  “Nope. Three weeks until portfolios are handed in. Five weeks until the end of the semester. Joey is grading Ronnie’s submission and I’ve got the rest of the class, then he’s offered to quickly go through all of them to ensure consistency. Five weeks till Vegas.”

  “Good. So soon, you won’t be secretly—but legally—fraternizing with your student, and no one will be able to question anything.”

  “Pretty much,” I reply, a comfortable silence stretching between us.

  I lift my beer and drain the rest before walking over to the cooler and placing the empty bottle inside. The rest of the guys follow suit.

  “Any other problems we need to discuss? I mean, we’ve covered Co and Ken; what about you, GI Joe? Or Ezra ‘many wives’ Baker?” Jamie asks hilariously.

  “Do we need to discuss the bachelor party?” Bry asks.

  “Nope. That’s all taken care of. Tickets are booked. Hotels are arranged. Entertainment is pending approval,” Ez says, quirking a brow Jamie’s way.

  “April’s approval?” he says, quite wisely I feel.

  “Yep. Learn from my past mistakes,” Ez says, smirking at Jamie.

  I chuckle. “You mean, accidentally booking a Mexican prostitute instead of a stripper isn’t the norm?”

  Co, Bry, and I all look at each other and burst out laughing. We all remember our shocked expressions when the woman’s pimp turned up and demanded more money for the apparent orgy. It took Jamie and a lot of pesos to calm the guy down and get both him and the working girl to leave, services unrendered.

  “I’m never gonna live that one down, am I?” Ez says, his lips twitching.

  “Nope. And for the record, no strippers,” Jamie says, pointing his finger at each one of us.

  “Aye, aye, captain,” us brothers say in unison. Ez is conspicuously quiet.

  Jamie spears him with a don’t-fuck-with-me look. “I mean it, Ez.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he relents. “If I hadn’t known you almost my entire life, I’d swear you were no fun.”

  Jamie throws his head back and barks out a laugh. “I’ll be a hell of lot more fun with my balls still attached to my body.”

  That gets us all laughing, and as we get back to what we were working on before our break, I’m thankful for having these four guys at my back.

  One thing I am sure of is Ronnie and I being on the same page, and with the semester’s finish line in sight, we’ll both be home and free with our academic reputations intact.

  And that’s definitely something I’m looking forward to.

  Ronnie

  Five dresses in, and I decide this is the perfect time to tease my favorite professor.

  April disappeared with the bridal shop owner thirty minutes ago with her own clothing rack’s worth of wedding gown options. That just left Abi and me with the task of choosing a dress that suits our style and body type, so long as it fits within her color scheme. Abi’s dress has to be pregnancy-friendly. Mine can be whatever tickles my fancy.

  Having stayed at my place last night, I dropped Jax off at the house earlier so the guys can all start the mammoth job of tiling and painting, so I’m not expecting to hear back from him until later.

  The first photo I send him is an artful angular pic of my bare shoulder which I took while getting undressed right at the start. When there’s no reply for five minutes, I send the next one. This time, it’s a slightly more risqué shot of a bright fuchsia dress with a very high split on one leg, and my strategically placed hand.

  Then I decide to really make his head explode, and naked as the day I was born, phone camera pointing over one shoulder, I take a full-length body shot from the back.

  That does the trick and gets me a phone call.

  “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Hello to you, too,” I say with a smile.

  “I was trying to paint primer and I heard a text notification. I made the mistake of opening the first message in view of Bry, who then tried to grab the phone from me. Thankfully, I abandoned the painting and I’m now sitting outside on the back steps because someone succeeded in thoroughly distracting me.”

  “Should I stop?”

  “Fuck no,” he says.

  “Good, because I thought I’d put my extensive contortionist training to good use for the next one.”

  “Jesus,” he rasps. “Wait… you trained as a contortionist?”

  “No, but I always wanted to try some of those cool silk tricks in the air.”

  “Naked? Because that could definitely be interesting.”

  That makes me giggle. “So apart from expressing your gratitude for the photos, for what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

  “I wanted to check whether we had plans tonight?”

  “We could have dinner and watch movies. I fig
ure we deserve a night of mindless relaxation.”

  “I would’ve said yes before you sent the first pic. The last photo is now my new screensaver.”

  “You’re joking,” I hiss.

  “Yeah. But only because I don’t want anyone else to experience the absolute fucking perfection that is your naked ass.”

  “Why, thank you. You say the sweetest things,” I say in a fake Southern drawl.

  “I aim to please, Ms. Nelson.”

  “You always do, Professor Cook.” I smile to myself in the mirror at his answering groan.

  “Takeout and movies at your place it is. I’ll pick up the food on my way over.”

  “How about I grab some groceries on the way home and I can make you dinner. You’ve been working on the house all day, you deserve a little pampering, Ronnie style. I’ll even let you sleep over,” I say.

  “Beautiful, I’m not gonna turn down a home cooked meal, especially from you,” he says, his voice so soft and warm I want to wrap myself up in it. “And since we just moved out the last of the furniture from the house, I’d say us sleeping here isn’t really an option for a few weeks.”

  “You can stay here if you want.”

  “We’re a bit too new to move in together, beautiful.”

  “I meant temporarily.”

  “I know you did and I love that you offered, but how about we stick to occasional sleepovers like we’ve been doing and move towards that? We’ve gotta learn to walk before we can run, right?”

  “Or chase before you jump me?”

  “Barbie…” he growls.

  “So dinner, are you on the menu?” His voice is low and smooth.

  My lips twitch. “You’re the one who took me off it.”

  “And you’ll be back on it soon enough. Once I’ve earned the right to eat it.”

  Damn. Is it getting hot in here? “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  “That’s all promise, beautiful. So much damn promise.” And I don’t miss the certainty in his voice. Confidence in a man is so damn sexy, it’s a wonder I haven’t tried to use my feminine wiles to break this enforced abstinence of ours. . .again. I appreciate why he put the no-sex rule in play, but it doesn’t help the frustration I’m feeling or the number of batteries I’m going through on a weekly basis. Weekly.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?” I ask, staring at myself in the mirror. This is definitely the dress I’m going to choose. I’m currently wearing a classic, V-neck, satin, A-line gown. I snap a photo of the front then turn around and take a photo of the strappy crisscross back detailing leading down to the figure-hugging bodice.

  “Actually, both of my ideas depend on your plans…” he says, suggestively.

  The gown is simple but fitting, showcasing all my favorite body parts. It’s the perfect dress to wear while I stand by and witness my best friend marrying the love of her life.

  “The only thing I was going to do was work on my portfolio. Maybe take some more shots.”

  “Hmm… I can definitely help with that.”

  “Oh yeah?” I finger the edge of the fabric framing my bust. “I’m not sure my professor would approve of a collection of nudes.”

  His deep, husky laugh fills my ear. “He’d absolutely approve of that. Especially if you were the subject. Joey might not appreciate having to grade it though, considering I’d have to beat him up for seeing you naked.”

  I giggle. “Probably not a good idea then.”

  “But there are creative ways to portray the human form.” My interest is definitely piqued now, my mind contemplating the multitude of possibilities.

  “Ronnie?” Abi calls out from outside the changing room.

  “I have to go. I need to show everyone this dress.”

  “I wish I could see you in—and out—of that dress.”

  “I can’t wait until I get to see you in—and out—of your suit.”

  “I’m already imagining how good it’s going to be when you pop my maid-of-honor cherry too.” His raspy voice almost distracts me from what he just said. Almost.

  I gasp in surprise. “You mean to say you, a man who’s probably shot a few weddings where you would’ve been the object of attention for many a bridesmaid, has never ticked that achievement off his bucket list?”

  “I said maid of honor…”

  I giggle. “Very sneaky, professor. Five weeks and you can pop whatever cherry you want.” His answering groan in my ear is worth the sexual frustration I’m feeling. “Besides, you seem to be a fan of delayed gratification lately.”

  “Mmm hmm. Anticipation can be the best foreplay.”

  “So can a blow job,” I deadpan. He bursts out laughing. My smile in the mirror is huge as I enjoy the sound.

  “I’ll let you go then, beautiful. Send me a text when you’re finished up and we’ll finalize our plans then.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “I just look forward to you,” he says, softly. God, this man!

  “Bye, Jax,” I say with a smile, ending the call just as Abi calls my name again. “Coming.”

  I step out of the changing room and walk down the short hallway to the big fitting room where Marcy, Betty, and Abi are already waiting. Abi’s standing in the middle of the room wearing a gorgeous dress in the same luminescent navy blue as mine, but in a different, more baby-bump-accommodating style from the bust down. She’s nearly six months and is more than showing, and since the wedding isn’t for another six weeks, April said to the bridal boutique owner that they needed to have pregnant-friendly dresses available. Looking at Abi, the woman more than delivered.

  “Damn, girl,” I say, walking toward her with a huge smile, waving towards her very voluptuous boobage. “You might need to hold Cade back when he sees those beauties.”

  She giggles and shoots me a wicked smirk, rubbing her hand over her round stomach. “How do you think I got into this position in the first place?”

  “And twins. Your husband is potent.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  Marcy clears her throat, her amused gaze switching between Abi and myself. “You two look beautiful. I love how the color complements both of you in different ways.”

  Betty nods in agreement.

  “Absolutely stunning. And if we can get ties in the same color for the guys, it’ll work so well,” she says, rubbing her hands together.

  Then her eyes drift past us and fill with tears, a soft gasp escaping her. I turn around and bite my lip to quell my own emotions at the sight of a resplendent April in an absolutely stunning ivory bridal gown. It has thin spaghetti straps, which fan out across her décolletage and down into a deep V, the bodice tapering at the waist then falling down in a full skirt to the floor. It’s understated and elegant, and as she walks towards us on the small elevated runway, hands in two discreet pockets, it’s totally April. She’s pulled her hair out and the chocolate-brown strands spread over her shoulders.

  “Jamie is gonna lose his shit at first sight,” Abi blurts out. She’s not wrong.

  April’s gaze goes from Abi to me, her expression soft and mushy.

  I point my finger at her. “Don’t you dare cry. Because if you cry, then I’ll start.” I wave my hand over my shoulder. “Then Abi will cry even more than she is now, and then the moms will get going, and we all know what that means.”

  April snorts and shakes her head. “I’m getting my fairytale ending. He’s giving me that.”

  I close the distance between us, putting my hands on her shoulders when I reach her. “Yes, he is, but you are also giving him the same thing. It’s you who stayed strong and worked your ass off to get to this point in your life, and all of us cannot wait,” I whisper, flexing my fingers gently, “to see you walk down the aisle to your prince.”

  “Just saying,” Abi adds, “I can’t wait to see my big brooding brother cry because in that dress, I’m laying bets he’ll be blubbering at first sight.”

  We all start quietly laughing. Abi is right
though, Jamie is going to lose it, and it will be just one of the many anticipated highlights of their wedding.

  “So do we pass inspection?” I say, giving April a slow-motion twirl. She looks me over then does the same to Abi—who turns around, just slowly and very carefully.

  “It’s perfect. You both look beautiful,” she says softly, meeting my eyes. “I’m getting married,” she whispers.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Mrs. Jamie Cook,” April whispers.

  “It’s got a nice ring to it,” Betty says, joining with Marcy, Abi and I to make a semi-circle around April. Betty steps forward and lifts her hands to cup April’s face. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

  April bites her lip, tears falling down her cheeks. “You, Jamie, and Axel are the best thing to ever happen to me. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

  Betty’s forced to wipe her own tears away, the rest of us doing the same. “My son was an idiot, and your parents should never have walked away from you either. But you have me for life, sweetheart. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you. For everything,” April whispers. She pulls Betty in for a hug before they pull apart, taking a few deep breaths to compose themselves. Betty is worth her weight in gold, and I’m so glad April has her.

  “Who knows?” Marcy says, looking across at me and winking. “We might have another Mrs. Cook soon enough if my son doesn’t stuff it up.”

  I choke and start coughing, a hand patting me on the back as I bend over and try to recover. With Betty and Marcy in my life, I don’t think I’m ever going to be short of loving mother figures, and I love that April and Jax have given that to me.

  “Mom, don’t scare her off. Who knows if Jax will ever find another woman who’d put up with him?” Abi asks.