Bad Boys After Dark

by Melissa Foster

  Sophie brought the documents to Mick, and when she returned to her desk, she found their newest associate, Charlie Hammond, waiting for her. The other girls in the office called him Charming Charlie. He exuded Southern charm, with his side-parted blond hair and wise brown eyes. He was an old soul who took the time to ask how everyone was doing and really seemed to care about their answers.

  “There you are,” Charlie said. “Busy as a bee today?”

  “Busier, but I always have time to help. What do you need?” Sophie came around her desk, trying to remember which task she needed to take care of next, but her mind was still playing with Brett’s expression. The stubborn stud was totally into her. Why couldn’t he just take a leap of faith and go with it?

  Charlie sat on the edge of her desk and opened a file. “I need some research done for a new client.” He thumbed through the file, explaining what he needed, and when he was done, he glanced at the stack of work on her desk. “Are you sure you can fit this in? I don’t mind asking someone else.”

  “Absolutely. I’m working through lunch today. I’ll get it done and have it to you by five.”

  He thanked her, and when he walked away, she noticed Brett standing down the hall talking with Carson—and watching her. She was surprised the carpet hadn’t caught fire with the way he was looking at her.

  “Lunch today?”

  The voice startled her, and she turned to find Amanda standing behind her. “Hi. Thanks, but I can’t. I’m swamped.”

  Amanda glanced down the hall at Brett and Carson and crossed her arms over her navy dress with a serious expression. “Is Brett behaving himself today?”

  “Oh, you know Brett. He doesn’t really know how to behave.” And I like that about him. Most of the time.

  “True, although Mick thinks he’s growing up, or going through a rough time about something and doesn’t want anyone to know. We had breakfast with the girls and his brothers yesterday, and Brett didn’t come. Carson said he went directly into the office after their run instead. And you know Brett. He never works on the weekends.” She gazed down the hall at him again. “Dylan mentioned that Brett hasn’t left NightCaps with a woman in months. Ally and I think he’s seeing someone, but the guys think we’re crazy.”

  Sophie and Amanda had been friends since she’d begun working at the firm. Did it make her a bad friend for not telling her about her relationship with Brett? She didn’t want to risk Amanda telling Mick. Even though they were all friends, Mick was still Sophie’s boss, and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was Brett’s newest plaything.

  Her gaze darted down the hall, and Brett’s lips tipped up in a secret smile meant only for her. She wondered if he could read her thoughts, too—I am your plaything and you are mine, but we’re so much more than that. I have faith in you. I hope you don’t let me down.

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Sophie finally answered. “I think your woman’s intuition and Mick’s male intuition are both probably right. Maybe he’s finally met his match and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

  Amanda smirked. “Then maybe he should start by not looking at you like he’d like to drag you into an office and inspect your briefs.”

  BRETT HAD NEVER been driven by jealousy before, at least not the way it was currently fueling him as the workday came to a close and he found Sophie and Charlie chatting by the coffee machine in the break room. She looked hot in her tight skirt and blouse, but she also looked professional, all clean lines and perfect makeup. She belonged in a frigging fashion magazine, and he hated to admit it, but so did Charlie with his tailored suit and expensive shoes. He’d seen them together several times today, their heads close enough to kiss as they looked over documents, and each time grated on his nerves more than the last. The urge to walk over and stake claim to his beautiful Sophie was so strong, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge to keep from reaching for her.

  “How’s it going?” Brett asked too gruffly.

  “It’s been a long day, but the end is finally here,” Sophie said with a smile. “How’d the security inspection go? Did we pass?”

  I’ll know after I interrogate this guy. “The company is locked down tight. I just need to tie up a few loose ends.” He took a drink of water. “Hey, Charlie. Did you catch the game on Sunday?”

  Charlie picked up a folder from the counter and said, “No. I’m afraid I’m not much of a sports fan.”

  “Really?” He lifted his brows to Sophie, knowing she’d read did you hear that in the look. She loved football, and he realized she had given up watching the game last night to be with him. But he still wanted to know who her friend from work was that she’d gone out with yesterday. “Were you around here Sunday? Working?”

  “No,” Charlie answered uneasily.

  “Hot date?” Brett ignored Sophie’s eye roll.

  “Actually, no.” Charlie stood up a little straighter. “And you’re asking because…?”

  “Just trying to get to know the employees. We take security seriously around here and like to know who’s in and out of the office, that sort of thing.”

  “Brett’s amazing at security, but his desk-side manner could use a tweak.” Sophie emphasized the last word, giving Brett a disapproving look. “I think he’s trying to make sure there were no unauthorized people in the office this weekend. Right, Brett? You’re not just being nosy.”

  Brett clenched his teeth. “Right. Exactly. Sorry if I came across any other way. Just doing my job.”

  “Well, I wasn’t here.” Charlie smiled at Sophie. “Thanks for taking care of that research today. I appreciate your time.”

  “My pleasure,” she said professionally. As soon as Charlie left the room Sophie turned on Brett, anger and amusement warring in her eyes. “What was that?”

  “Just checking out my competition.” He felt like a prick, and the worst part about it was that he was the one keeping them from going public with their relationship, not Sophie. He hated this part of himself. The part that had always fought being boxed in like a rebellious teenager. He didn’t know what drove his need for freedom, or rather, his hatred of feeling restricted, and he had no idea how to get it under control. Although lately all I’ve wanted is to be boxed in with Sophie.

  “Your competition?” She laughed softly.

  “I assume he’s your special friend from work. And hey, if that’s what you’re into, a guy who doesn’t watch football, with his too-white teeth, perfect hair, and—”

  “Ability to commit?” she asked with a playful smile, but he knew it was a loaded tease.

  He pulled her into his arms, unable to tease or keep his distance a second longer. “Soph, I’m trying.”

  She stole a glance over her shoulder and then whispered, “I know you’re trying. Thank you. I’m with you, Brett, and I’m hoping this works for us, but you can’t go around scaring off any guy I talk to. There was no friend Sunday. I’m sorry for telling you there was. It was the only excuse I could think of at the time.”

  His heart hurt at that. “You lied to me so you wouldn’t have to spend the afternoon with me?”

  She nodded. “I was hurt by what you said about if I hadn’t slugged you, but we already talked about that. I’m learning to speak the language of Brett Bad, and we’re communicating better every day. But if you want me to be yours, you have to trust that even though you can’t function in a committed relationship, I can.”

  “Jesus, Sophie,” he said softly. “I’ve never been jealous, but I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else.”

  “And you’ve turned me into one of those ridiculous women who can’t walk away when red flags are waving.”

  He couldn’t suppress his smile. “You’re anything but ridiculous, and those red flags are for passion, not pain.”

  “You’re impossible.” Her eyes darkened, and she glanced over her shoulder again. She put her arms around his neck and whispered, “Kiss me quick.”

  He lowered his li
ps to hers, and they both sighed into it. Just like that, all the jealousy went out the window. She righted his world, centering him, making all his edginess subside, and as he deepened the kiss, he knew he was skating on thin ice. She already owned him.

  “Oh!”

  They jumped at the sound of Amanda’s voice. Sophie’s cheeks turned bright red, and she fidgeted nervously with her blouse, but there was no hiding her arousal—or his. Brett turned away to adjust himself.

  “I um…What was…?” Amanda started to turn away, then spun back around, her finger moving between the two of them, her face as red as Sophie’s. “What did I just…? Did I see you two…?”

  Brett cleared his throat and grabbed his water bottle. “I’m tryin’ and Sophie’s denyin’. Same song, different day.” He winked at Sophie, hoping it came across as the overzealous flirtation Amanda was used to seeing. “Maybe next time you’ll kiss me back.”

  Sophie scoffed, gratitude rising in her eyes. “In your dreams.”

  “I’ve told you before, I call them fantasies. And you star in every last one of them.” He walked past Amanda and said, “One of these days she’s going to be mine. You just wait and see.”

  Chapter Eight

  “COME ON, BABY, you’ve got this,” Grace urged. She stood at the head of the bench press, spotting Sophie as she struggled through her last set Wednesday morning. Grace helped guide the bar onto the rack and smiled down at Sophie. “Way to go. Maybe next time you can do it like you mean it.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes as she sat up and caught the towel Grace tossed to her. She wiped the sweat from her face. “Your turn, Cruella.”

  “I welcome your torture,” Grace said as they switched places, and she lay on the bench. “Speaking of torture, what’s going on with your midnight leaver?”

  “He’s amazing. Every. Single. Night. I swear, I feel like our friendship and all the propositions, the jokes, every conversation, were leading up to what we both secretly hoped for. I just wish he’d stay overnight.”

  “So, in addition to giving you multiple orgasms and kissing you until you can’t see straight,” Grace said as she pushed the bar up, “you want him to be a mind reader?”

  “No. Yes. Kind of. I mean, at what point does a guy start staying over?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person,” Grace said through gritted teeth as she pushed through the last of her set.

  Sophie grinned down at her, blocking the bar from the rack. “Two more for giving me crap about working out harder.”

  “Whatever! I’ll do five if you’ll tell Bad boy you want him to stay overnight.”

  Sophie wrestled with her emotions. “I want to ask him, but he’s got this weird thing about feeling boxed in.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “I don’t. Good job. That’s three. You can stop.”

  “You haven’t said you’ll tell him how you feel. I’m going to torture myself until you agree to stop torturing yourself.” She pushed the bar up again with shaky arms.

  “God, you’re a pain, but thank you. I think I need you in my life.”

  Grace flashed a deadpan expression. “You think?”

  Sophie laughed. “He told me if he feels confined he does whatever he can to break free and things will go bad. Things are so good right now, Gracie. I don’t want to mess that up.”

  “So, he’s calling before he comes over? Asking you out on dates?”

  “He’s not a call-and-make-a-date kind of guy. He’s more of text-at-the-last-minute-and-show-up kind of guy.”

  “And you don’t see that as a red flag?” Grace racked the bar. She sat up, and Sophie sat beside her on the bench. “Sophie, talk to me, because it’s not like you to overlook things like this.”

  “Fine, but don’t judge me.”

  “Do I ever?”

  “No,” she admitted. Sophie looked around the gym. “You know how we have a schedule that we try to maintain, working out, going to the office, picking up groceries?”

  “Yes, I call that life.”

  “Right, for most of us. But look at Lindsay. She could never go into an office every day knowing she had to handle the same tasks over and over.” Her sister was an event planner and photographer, and what she loved most about her business was that every day was different. There were different people to photograph, different themes, locations. Even though her specialty was weddings and families, each job was unique.

  “And she never wants a real relationship, either,” Grace pointed out.

  Sophie pushed to her feet and pulled Grace up beside her, laughing when Grace pretended her arms were made of rubber. “Come on, you don’t need your arms to use the StairMaster.” As they headed for the aerobic equipment, she said, “Lindsay wants a relationship. She’s just afraid she won’t be good at it because our parents and grandparents are so good at it. I think Brett’s afraid, too, but for different reasons. Look at his family, and look at mine. From what Amanda has told me, his father lost it when his sister died. He became really mean, and their parents divorced. I’d be afraid if that happened to me, wouldn’t you?”

  Grace stepped onto the machine and laid her towel over the console. “Sure. I guess you’re right. Then there are people like me. My parents are like yours, happily married since the dawn of time, and I’m in no hurry to get into a relationship.”

  “Because you love your work, and it’s demanding and takes weekends and evenings, and a relationship will only add stress. Whereas my job ends when I leave the office.”

  “True. But even if I didn’t work all those hours, I’m not sure I’d want a man in my life. It has nothing to do with my parents.”

  “And you suffered a heartrending breakup, remember?” Sophie had been there to pick up the pieces after Grace and her first love, Reed Cross, had gone their separate ways. “Oh my gosh. You’re right. I could be way off base. Reed ruined you for all other men. Maybe some woman ruined Brett for all other women.” She hadn’t thought of that. She had no idea what relationships he’d had when he was younger, only of his refusal to have them as an adult.

  “Reed didn’t ruin me. It was my decision to break up. But there are a million reasons people don’t want relationships. A person needs to be happy with who they are before they can be in a relationship and have something to offer someone else. So maybe he’s not happy with himself.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but I doubt it. He’s more confident than any man I’ve ever met. I mean, he knows himself well enough to admit he could mess things up between us and that he doesn’t want to. That takes confidence.” Sophie picked up speed, huffing through her workout. “Why do I feel like, if someone did hurt him, I want to track her down and beat her up?”

  “Maybe because you’re with a guy who looks and acts like he can do anything. He makes you laugh, makes you moan,” she said with a lift of her brows. “He’s at your house every night and texts you sexy stuff all the time. But he can’t give you the one thing you have always wanted.”

  “Well, I’m not giving up on him. I’ve never felt this way before, and I—”

  “Trust my heart,” they both said at once.

  “You know I love you,” Grace said. “But if it were me saying I wanted to try to fix a man, you’d haul my butt into a bar and get me drunk. Then I’d give up, because I don’t really want a man in my life. But since we’re talking about you, and I’ve never seen you so loopy over a guy before, I’ll just say this. If he hurts you, even if it’s your fault for wanting something he may not be able to give, I’ll kill him, sexually gifted or not.”

  “You won’t have to. He’s not broken or in need of being fixed. Just figured out.”

  BRETT SAT IN the conference room with his management team, reviewing the security details for the upcoming concert and trying not to show his agitation at being stuck in the office at seven o’clock at night. There was no avoiding the late meeting, as coordinating a team of busy managers required flexibility. The concert was taking place in a few weeks, and with
the recent attacks on public venues, they had to make sure they had all their bases covered.

  “Where do we stand?” Brett pointed to his top guy, Giovanni “Gio” Amato.

  Gio had worked for their company for the past seven years. With a background in terrorism detection, a decade in the military, and five years as a private investigator, he never missed a beat. He set a steady gaze on Brett, rubbed his square jaw, a mannerism that gave away his meticulous nature, and said, “We’re set. We’re taking anti-terrorism precautions on all levels. The facility is in complete lockdown when not in use. Starting three days before the event, we’ll be doing bomb sweeps every morning and night, and we’ve got a team in place to search every package delivered through the day of the event. The venue has already banned carry-in items except for purses, which will be searched. As agreed, we’ve doubled our security personnel, and every person who enters the building will get a pat-down as well as metal-detection screening. We’ve added extra camera surveillance and metal detectors on all levels, behind the scenes, and at all entrances. We’re also blocking entrances and ramps so nothing wider than a wheelchair can fit through.”

  “Great, and the staff has all been put through the ringer?” Brett asked Thomas Crull, who managed security for the backstage crew. Brett glanced at his watch, his leg bouncing restlessly beneath the table. He wanted to stop and pick up a bottle of wine and grab a movie from Redbox on the way to Sophie’s. When he’d texted her earlier, she’d said she’d had a rough day at work and he hoped it might help her relax.

  “We’re in solid shape,” Thomas answered. “No more hires are going to be made between now and the date of the concert, and the existing staff has been screened and validated. Backstage will be locked down, which the artist isn’t thrilled about.”