I folded myself into the window seat and mentally cursed myself for not being willing to wait one more day for an aisle seat. Coach seats weren’t made with a six-feet, five-inch frame in mind, but I couldn’t justify the expense of a first-class seat for a two-and-a-half-hour flight. Not when my money could be better spent elsewhere. The clinic where I volunteered was always short on funding. The cost differential between a coach ticket and a first-class ticket could mean the difference between the clinic getting an X-ray machine that worked and continuing to make do with one that gave fuzzy exposures half the time.
“That doesn’t look very comfortable.”
The woman looking down at me had tight gray curls, a blue cardigan, and those glasses with a chain that hung around her neck. Even though she looked nothing like my Grandma Olive, she had the same sort of caring, sweet air about her, and my throat closed up with the sudden memory.
She sat down in the aisle seat but stayed perched on the edge. “You know, whenever I fly out to see my son, I always buy an extra seat for my Sherlock.”
I gave her a tight smile. It didn’t matter if Sherlock was a dog or a cat, I’d be polite and not complain, even when I started sneezing.
“Except I had to put him down a few months back, and when I bought my tickets, I plum forgot that I only needed one.”
Where was she going with this? It took all my patience to bite my tongue and wait for her to get to the point. Usually, I had extraordinary patience, but after spending this past week with my brothers, it was wearing thin.
“You see, what I’m wondering is if you wouldn’t mind switching seats with me.” She gave me that grandmotherly smile again. “I think if I was by a window, I wouldn’t be thinking about my poor Sherlock. You’d be doing me a favor, sitting out here on the aisle, with an empty seat between us.”
I nodded, unable to speak just yet. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something kind for me without any thought of what they could receive in return. She might be saying that I was doing her a favor, but we both knew who was helping who.
When we were all settled in our new seats, I looked over at her. “Thank you.”
She reached over and patted my arm. “Don’t mention it, dearie. You looked like you’ve been having a rough time of it lately.”
She had no idea.
I knew Grandfather had done the best he could, raising us boys. Grandma Olive had made things easier, but she passed only four years after my parents and sister, another blow to our already fragile family. Instead of everything we’d been through bringing us together, it had pushed us apart, each for our own reasons. But it didn’t mean his death hurt any less.
“Pardon me.”
I looked up as a flight attendant leaned over me to put something in the overhead compartment. She was pretty, probably a few years younger than me, and smiling down at me in a way I easily recognized. I didn’t have the money that Jax and Blake possessed, or Slade’s charm, but I wasn’t hurting for it either, which usually made things worse when it came to women. Between my looks – a fluke of genetics – and my job – which I’d worked my ass off to get – I wasn’t hurting for female attention.
The flight attendant closed the compartment and shifted her position to allow a line of passengers to go by. The fact that it pressed her right up against my arm and shoulder wasn’t intentional at all, I was certain. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I appreciated confident people but brazen wasn’t an attractive quality, in my opinion.
“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked, her dark eyes making the invitation out to be more than the usual peanuts and sodas.
“No, thank you,” I said politely as I picked up my book.
“Whatcha reading?” The attendant rubbed against my arm with all the subtlety of a cat in heat.
“Infectious Disease Precautions and Protocols in Urban Environments,” I said lightly. “I’m on the chapter about quarantine in areas with rodent infestations.”
Horror and disgust were almost immediately covered by a plastic smile as she hurried along, but I knew I wouldn’t need to worry about her bothering me for anything other than her usual duties.
“Are you a doctor?”
I turned to my seatmate to find her watching me with an amused expression on her face.
“Yes,” I said. “My specialty is infectious diseases.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that you work for the CDC.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of hard candy. “You could have just told her to leave you alone because you needed to concentrate on an important case.”
I shrugged. “The truth seemed like a simpler and more logical deterrent than coming up with a story that might only pique her interest.”
The older woman held out another piece of candy. I took it and popped the peppermint into my mouth.
“Were you in Boston for business or pleasure?” she asked.
“Neither,” I answered honestly. “My grandfather died.”
Her face softened, and she reached over to pat my hand. “I’m sorry to hear that, dearie.”
I gave her a tight smile. “Thank you.”
The voice of the head flight attendant came over the intercom just then, interrupting any further attempt at a conversation for the moment. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I’d flown enough to know the speech given at the beginning of every flight. If I could clear my mind for a few minutes, I could be asleep before take-off and wouldn’t wake up until we started our descent.
Except I couldn’t clear my mind, and it wasn’t the fault of the flirting flight attendant, or the kind, older woman. For once, it wasn’t even my work that had my head buzzing.
No, it was those infernal requirements Grandfather had put on the distribution of his estate. My brothers and I had known that going our own ways was in everyone’s best interests, and Grandfather hadn’t said a word to the contrary. Why had he decided that, after his death, we should suddenly come together as a family?
We hadn’t been a true family for nearly twenty-five years.
Two
Addison
I’d been on the plane for two hours, and we were getting ready to start our descent into the Atlanta airport, but I still didn’t feel like any of this was real yet.
I applied for the CDC internship without any real hope of getting it. The University of Minnesota was good, but it didn’t have a prestigious, ivy league name that opened doors. I finished my classes at the end of the fall semester, but I was still working on my thesis. My advisor had spoken to someone at the CDC and gotten my application for the internship moved to the head of the pile. Apparently, they liked what they saw, because, after just a single phone interview, I was on my way. It was the perfect work to do while I completed my thesis.
If I ever finished the damn thing.
No, I refused to think about how I’d been stuck for weeks. I was going to think positive. Like how getting to meet one of the premier scientists in my field would start my career off on the right foot. Or how I was going to be doing the most important work in my life. Or how this internship could possibly lead to an actual job with the CDC after I finished my thesis.
Or how I was positively certain that I was going to be one of those people who never finished their thesis and became a failure, doomed to return to their tiny hometown and bag groceries for the rest of their life before going home to their four cats and two English bulldogs name Frumpy and Grumpy and–
“Miss, please put your seatbelt on.”
I looked up to see one of those obnoxiously polite smiles that professionals put on whenever someone’s pissed them off. Apparently, I was the one hold-out on the seatbelt thing.
“Sorry,” I muttered as I buckled it.
“You looked like you were about to pee your pants.”
This profound statement was followed by the sort of high-pitched giggling that would’ve been appropriate coming from a child or some nattering teenager. My s
eatmates, however, were well past their childhood, and at least a decade and a half from anything resembling a teenager. Easily past thirty, both were wearing leopard print-halter tops and tight pants that would’ve been tacky even on someone the right age. Their makeup was caked on, but if anything, it made the lines etched into their faces stand out even more.
I wasn’t a shallow or vain person. I was a woman of science. I understood that the way a person was put together was due to genetic programming, with some environmental factors thrown in for good measure. For example, I had the sort of orange-red curls that could be seen for a mile, and I had a long line of maternal ancestors to thank for them, as well as the freckles. My pale green eyes came from a great-aunt on my dad’s side. My nose was my father’s.
I liked to think I didn’t judge others by their appearance, but it wasn’t easy when people went so far out of their way to change the way they looked that it was difficult to take them seriously. To top it all off, the two women in the middle and window seats had been talking about me from the moment I sat down and hadn’t even bothered to pretend they weren’t. I had a lot of practice ignoring assholes, but those two were getting on my last nerve.
Still, I didn’t even give them a glance. I had enough on my mind at this moment.
I pulled a folded piece of paper from my pocket and opened it. I had an eidetic memory, but I liked to write things down and look at them. They helped me focus. I also liked to make lists of things that I had to do and run through them over and over. I found it…soothing. Okay, so maybe it was a little OCD, but it had always kept my anxiety under control.
And moving to a completely different part of the country without knowing a single person was certainly anxiety provoking material.
The internship was for a year, which meant too long for a hotel stay, and limited the amount of time I could sign a lease for. Since I’d lived at home during college, I didn’t have any furniture outside of my bedroom stuff, and all of that was falling apart.
The only logical choice had been to find a roommate. It’d taken almost the entire two weeks I’d had to prepare to find her, but I thought we were going to get along well. Her name was Dorly Mitich, and she hadn’t once said that we were going to be like sisters.
I already had sisters. I didn’t want another one.
The airport was huge, and I saw a lot of people staring around, looking like they didn’t know where they were going, but I went straight for the map. I didn’t understand people who didn’t use maps or ask for directions. Too much time wasted.
Dorly’s apartment was already furnished, which meant my two suitcases were all I needed for now. The one thing I hadn’t wanted to bring on the flight were my books, so they were being shipped later this week. Hopefully. I’d probably have to call one of my brothers to go over to the house and take the boxes to the post office since the chances of my mother or stepfather remembering were slim.
I didn’t technically need them, since I could remember every single page, but I liked to have the references. Besides, I’d color-coded passages with various highlighters. Green for my thesis. Orange for things I believed I’d eventually disprove. Yellow for random bits of information I just found interesting.
I pulled up my GPS on my phone to look over the layout of the neighborhood. I didn’t want to accidentally end up at the wrong building. That would be embarrassing.
“First time in Atlanta?” the cabbie asked as he settled into the driver’s seat.
I blew out a breath. “It is.”
“Where are you from?”
Great. He wanted to play twenty questions. I gave him a tight smile. “Minnesota.”
A half-hour later, I was standing in front of apartment 7B, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. A simple taxi ride had been enough to convince me that Georgia and Minnesota were worlds apart. And the accent? I could barely understand a word.
Still, I knocked on the door, because staying here was a necessary part of me getting to work at the CDC, and there was no way in hell I was giving that up.
Especially when it meant that I just might get to meet Cai Hunter.
I’d hung his articles on my bedroom walls as a teenager, treasuring each rare picture. He was gorgeous, but it wasn’t his body that had me staring at him every night before I went to sleep. It was his brain. He was brilliant; and he didn’t use that brilliance to become the sort of doctor that would make six figures. He used it to try to make the world a better place.
The door opened, and my new roommate stood in front of me. At five and a half feet tall, I wasn’t always able to look women in the eye, but Dorly Mitich was only about an inch taller than me.
And that was where any similarity ended.
Short, spiky dark red hair that I couldn’t quite tell if it was natural or dyed. An athletic build that made me wonder how much she worked out. And piercings. A lot of piercings. Eyebrow, lip, and earrings that ran from her earlobe all the way up and around the top. Thanks to the tank top she wore, I could see the tattoos that ran over both arms, her shoulders, and across her cleavage.
“Addison Kilar.” She made it a statement rather than a question.
I smiled, liking her directness. “That’s me.”
She stepped aside and waved me in. “Come on. Let me show you around.”
I stepped past her and set my suitcases next to the door. It was small, but not claustrophobic. The furniture was mismatched but had a funky, artistic vibe that my oldest niece, Pattie, would have loved.
“Kitchen to the right. Living room to the left. I never needed a table to eat at, but if you want one, we can look into going halves.” Dorly headed for a short hallway directly across from the door. “Bathroom is the first door on the right. Closet is the second. My room’s right across from the bathroom, yours is here at the end.” She pushed open the door and stepped back to let me see inside.
It was about the same size as my room back home. The bed was a queen, which was nice. The dresser was battered but big enough to hold what I’d brought. The best thing was the space against the far wall where I could put a bookshelf at some point.
“This is great,” I said, meaning it.
“All right. Let’s go get your stuff.”
“Thanks,” I said quickly. “But I’ve got it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Those two suitcases? That’s all?”
“My mom is supposed to send my books later.”
“Books?” Dorly stared at me for a moment, then burst into laughter. “You’re shitting me, right? You brought two suitcases, and your mom’s shipping books.”
“Yes?” I wasn’t sure what was so funny, but it didn’t feel like she was making fun of me.
Dorly clapped a hand down on my shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
Three
Cai
The flight had been uneventful, and I’d gotten through the airport in record time. My car was in the parking lot, right where Pansy said she’d leave it, and traffic had been minimal. I’d gotten back to my apartment a few hours ago, and I still hadn’t been able to relax. I tried reading, pacing, exercising, and none of it worked. Nervous energy hummed through my body, and there was only one way I could think to get rid of it.
And I needed to be rid of it.
Before I left for Boston, I’d been close to a breakthrough for a new vaccine. My bosses had understood my need to go even though most employers only gave a day or two for the death of a grandparent, but I knew they’d be watching my progress closely. We hadn’t even yet progressed to trials, but they expected a lot of me.
The golden boy.
Never took vacations, worked all hours, focused on a problem until it was solved.
And, most importantly, never cracked under pressure.
Which meant, every so often, I needed some release.
When I was first assigned to Atlanta, a woman I’d met for a casual encounter suggested that we visit a club. I went alon
g with her as it seemed the politest course of action. She hadn’t liked what we found, and we hadn’t stayed long, but a few nights later, I’d gone back alone.
Now, if I was feeling this sort of anxiety, this particular need for release, that was where I went. And, tonight was no different.
No, I thought as I paid the cabbie and walked toward the club. Tonight, was different because I now knew that Jax had similar predilections. My younger brothers and I hadn’t exactly talked about it prior to our conversation with Jax, but one of the last times the four of us had been together, Slade mentioned the name of a club in Worchester, and both Blake and I recognized it.
Jax hadn’t been in the room at the time, and we’d never had an actual conversation about it. It wasn’t the sort of thing we talked about with each other. Except he had this time. He’d told all of us about how he’d gone to Club Privé in New York, which had been enough to shock all of us into a conversation about how it was becoming one of the premier BDSM clubs in the world. I was there just last year when a case had taken me to the Big Apple.
I still couldn’t believe my buttoned-up businessman brother was into S&M. Slade and Blake made sense once I’d known. But Jax? I spent my entire life thinking I’d never measure up to him, and when I realized my sexual preferences weren’t mainstream, I felt it was another way I’d failed. I’d spent so many years hiding my desires, and now hearing Jax was the same way had almost made me angry with him. As if it was his fault that I’d struggled with who I was.
I pushed those thoughts aside as I nodded to the bouncer and made my way inside. It was packed even though it was still early, and I scanned the crowd for someone who piqued my interest. I rarely lingered, and it was only now that I realized my reluctance to spend time here came from those feelings of guilt and shame.
Tonight, wasn’t the night to explore that, however. I needed to get rid of this tension and focus on the work I’d be doing tomorrow.
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