The Safe Bet

by Brittney Sahin

Kate glanced over at Julia and mouthed an apology to her—she didn’t want Julia to think she was hitting on her brother. Julia smiled back and continued dancing with James. She didn’t look mad. But the heated look James was directing toward Kate was somewhat unsettling.

  Her heartbeat did a cowboy quickstep as Michael reached for her and held her as if he owned her. Somehow, having Michael’s rock hard body pressed against her was more than okay even though it shouldn’t have been.

  He rested his hand on the small of her back, and her chest pressed to his.

  There was a shift in the mood of the room as the music changed to a low tempo beat. The sound of the drums through the speakers thumped in her ears, matching the pounding of her heart.

  Michael kept his eyes on hers as their bodies collided against each other in rhythmic movement to the music.

  She breathed in his intoxicating smell, growing a little dizzy.

  “You okay?” Michael pulled away.

  How had he known she was stressed?

  “Yeah, I just . . . you ever get the feeling that you’re being watched?” Her thoughts, scrambling, had landed on the only other thing on her mind—the creepy text she’d gotten the other day.

  “I’m sure a lot of guys in here are watching you, Kate.” He reached for her waist in an almost protective manner.

  “No, not like that. I mean . . . never mind. Sorry.” Her cheeks burst red, as bright as fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  “Is someone bothering you?” His eyes narrowed, and he began scanning the room.

  “What? Um . . . no.” She took a step back. “I should get going. My hotel’s not too far.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you.” He placed his hand on her forearm. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk alone.” He shook his head. “No way.”

  Kate stared at him, her eyes widening. “Relax. I don’t need a babysitter.” Or do I? The image from the text flashed into her mind again. But she was too pigheaded to take Michael up on his offer, despite her nerves. He removed his hand from her arm, and she felt a few degrees cooler without his touch. She resisted the urge to stay with him, and instead approached Julia. “I’m gonna get going. I’m tired, and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”

  Julia was dancing with someone new—Kate didn’t see James anywhere. She had no desire to say goodbye to him, anyway.

  “Okay, well, thanks for coming out.” Julia air-kissed Kate on the cheek and Kate left the dance floor.

  Michael caught her by the arm. “Please, don’t be stubborn.”

  “Hey baby,” a cute blonde said to Michael, coming up at his side.

  Seriously? Seeing the blonde reminded Kate of yet another reason why she should ignore the flare of desire that had wrapped its hold on her whenever she thought of him.

  “I gotta go,” she said, turning her back on the scene. As she reached the door, Kate gave one last look at the club. She saw the blonde’s hands pressed against Michael’s chest, and Kate’s shoulders slumped forward slightly as she exhaled and left.

  Two blocks later, Kate was analyzing a pair of street signs. “Shit,” she said to herself. She had walked the wrong direction. She began to backtrack toward the club, which was now on the way to the hotel, wishing she wasn’t wearing stilettos.

  “Hey.”

  She turned around to find James. She wanted to feel relieved that it was someone she knew, but somehow she didn’t. “Hi. You decide to leave early, too?” She gave him a polite smile. His eyes darkened, and he took a few steps closer to her. A little too close. She could smell the booze on his breath. Relax. He’s a friend of Julia’s.

  “I was hoping you and I could get to know each other a little better.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

  His touch was too intimate for her. “Sure. We can talk at the fundraiser next weekend,” Kate offered.

  “How about now?” he proposed, placing a hand on her hip.

  Kate jerked backward. “I need to get going,” she said with a weak voice and wished she had channeled more oomph to her words at that moment.

  “Come on—let’s have a drink together. My condo is a block away. I have a great view of the city that I’d love to show you.” He touched her face with the back of his hand, and she inhaled. “I won’t bite. I promise.” He leaned in closer, and she turned her head.

  “I’m beat and just want to get back to my hotel.” She looked up and down the street, hoping to find a witness, but the sidewalks were empty. The nightclub, tucked away around the corner, was out of view.

  “You should probably back off.”

  Oh, thank God. Kate looked up at Michael. With crossed arms and tight lips, he glared at James.

  James attempted to match Michael’s stance, folding his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up toward Michael, who stood a couple of inches taller. “Are you her keeper?”

  “You need to go, man,” Michael demanded. “And I suggest you skip the party next weekend, as well,” he warned.

  James looked at Kate and back at Michael. He rolled his eyes and stepped away. “See you around, sweetheart,” he said before walking off.

  Kate tilted her head back and exhaled the breath she’d been holding, relieved that the stand-off was over. “Thanks. I guess I should’ve accepted your invitation to walk me home.” If only so I wouldn’t get lost.

  He nodded in agreement, and she pointed down the street. “I’m that way.” She looked up at the sliver of the moon in the sky as they walked. “So, um, who was that girl at the club?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she was curious.

  “No one important,” he responded, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

  “Thanks again for agreeing to host the party next weekend. You made your sister over-the-top happy.”

  He remained silent and kept his eyes on the street.

  “This is me.” She stopped outside the double door entry of her hotel and looked up at him. “Would you like a drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you for rescuing me.” What am I thinking? She couldn’t let him in her hotel room—there was a bed in there.

  “Sure.”

  Although he had agreed, Kate felt like Michael was almost . . . nervous. His jaw ticked, and his chest inflated a little beneath his shirt. When she saw how his eyes swept down her body and up again, she realized it wasn’t nerves, but something else lurking beneath his somewhat cold exterior.

  When they entered her suite, and she remembered the bed was in another room, the knot in her stomach weakened. Why didn’t she trust herself? It wasn’t like she’d throw caution to the wind.

  She slipped off her uncomfortable heels, pulled her hair in a ponytail, and approached the bar by the window.

  Michael looked around the room, which wasn’t as lavish as might be expected. The furniture was minimalistic, and the room was almost boring, decorated in various shades of tan. The only thing that brightened the room was a vase of flowers on the coffee table. “Let me help,” he offered.

  “Merlot okay?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Her arm brushed against his as she moved away from the bar. The slightest contact had her body tensing.

  She took a seat on a cream-colored loveseat and crossed her legs at her ankles. She stared at Michael as he poured the wine, appreciating how good his backside looked in well-worn blue jeans.

  When he turned toward her, armed with two glasses of wine, her heart slammed against her ribcage. He stood still for a moment, holding the glasses and staring at her mouth.

  What? Oh. She was biting her lip again. Don’t tell me you’re like that Christian Grey character. Kate may not have had much of a love life, but she’d at least read the infamous books. She was definitely getting a “dominant male” vibe from Michael, but whips? She doubted that.

  Her lip quivered a little at the thought, which pushed her entirely outside her comfort zone and her cheeks heated at the image of Michael tying her up.

  What is with me?

  “You okay?” Michael moved to
ward her and sat down.

  Apparently not. But she quickly nodded and averted her eyes to the glass she’d raised in the air, wishing the loveseat was a little bigger. She was far too close to him. “Um . . . cheers.” The man may have been a notorious womanizer, but she was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t his fault. Maybe women just threw themselves at him.

  She’d never had a one-night stand before, but she had a list of men that she was willing to break her no casual sex rule for: Bradley Cooper, Brett Dalton, and Henry Cavill. Since Michael looked like Henry, maybe even better if that were possible, did that mean she could—

  “You think you’ll be able to pull off this party by next Saturday?” Michael interrupted her thoughts, which was probably a good thing.

  “I hope. Your sister is counting on me.” She looked down at the scarlet colored wine. “So, do you like being a venture capitalist? Do you miss running your old business?”

  He set his glass down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m involved in running many businesses now. It’s exciting bringing someone’s idea or product to life. I never had any intention of creating my own company when I got out of the military, you know. I had ideas—a lot of ideas, and I needed help.” He crossed his ankle over his knee.

  “You didn’t want to become rich?”

  His lips curved at the edges, offering her an almost-smile. “I didn’t plan on selling my inventions to the military. I would’ve given them away. But to get my ideas from, well, an idea to a product, I needed capital. And investors want to make a profit.” He reached for his glass and took a sip of the Merlot. “After some time, I realized I couldn’t morally justify selling my inventions anymore. They were saving lives. Catching terrorists. The original investors offered me a chance to sell my share of the company to them.”

  “And that’s when you decided to use the money to help veterans?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re amazing.” She didn’t mean to say that aloud.

  He cocked his head to the side, and this time, a full smile slipped to his lips. “That’s what I think about you.”

  She took in a breath, and her shoulders jerked at the sound of her phone beeping, alerting her to a text. “Sorry. Give me a second.” It had to be important if someone was trying to reach her so late.

  She rose to her feet and walked over to her purse, which she had chucked by the door.

  “Everything okay?” he asked as she dropped the phone back into her bag, her hand trembling.

  “Um. Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. “It’s—it’s actually my birthday today, and I got a birthday message is all.”

  “Really? Happy Birthday. Julia didn’t tell me.”

  “She doesn’t know.” Kate walked toward the wall of windows by the bar and folded her arms.

  “You sure you’re okay?” He stood up and approached her, wine still in hand. He touched her shoulder, guiding her to face him, before tilting her chin up.

  She prayed he wouldn’t see her pain. “I don’t ever celebrate my birthday,” she admitted.

  “You don’t like getting old, huh?” He released his hand from her face and tipped the remaining contents of his wine glass into his mouth. “How old are you today?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “Well, you should at least continue celebrating your birthday until you get to be as old as me.”

  “And you are?” She already knew the answer since she’d done her research on the company before visiting, but she didn’t want to come across as some creepy stalker.

  “Thirty-three.”

  “Oh—you’re ancient.”

  He grinned at her and glanced toward the windows. “What’s going on? For real?”

  She brought her hand to her lip and bit her thumb. Was she going to tell him? Somehow, she couldn’t find it in her to stop.

  “My mom died giving birth to me, so I feel like I’d be celebrating her death if I partied on my birthday.” She looked back out the window, not wanting to see pity, which was the normal response delivered to her upon hearing her story.

  After a moment, he spoke, his voice soft. “What happened?”

  Where do I even begin? She shook her head, and her eyebrows quirked in surprise—who would have thought, three days ago, that she would be opening up to Michael Maddox?

  “My mom was a student at UNCC. She got pregnant her junior year. She was due in October, but apparently, some problems developed, and they had to do an emergency C-Section. She lost a lot of blood. Too much.” She cleared her throat and attempted to block the threat of tears. “My dad doesn’t want me in Charlotte. He hates this place because of what happened to my mom.”

  “I can understand that.” He walked away from her and sat back down on the couch.

  Kate turned around and looked at Michael. He was leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees with his eyes on the floor. He seemed . . . different.

  “I was ten years old before he brought me to Charlotte. I never saw him cry until that day.”

  Michael looked up at her. “It’s hard losing someone.”

  Kate studied Michael for a beat. His mood had definitely changed. The warmth that had radiated from him before when he had heated her body with his gaze was gone.

  He was stone cold—steel.

  “I should get some sleep,” she whispered, feeling too heavy to speak anymore.

  “You gonna be okay?” He stood up and moved toward her, and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. The soft gesture didn’t match the now dark look in his eyes.

  “You don’t need to worry about me. You don’t know me.”

  The muscle in his jaw strained as he withdrew his hand from her face.

  She moved back to the windows and looked out, arms crossed. “Goodnight, Michael,” she said as their eyes met in the reflection of the glass.

  “Happy Birthday.” He paused in the open doorway for a moment, maybe he was unsure if he should leave her, but she sighed a breath of relief once the door closed.

  And her eyes became blurred by her tears as she sank to her knees.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  KATE GLOWERED AT HER PHONE for the third time in the last minute. She was on the rooftop terrace of her hotel, trying to get some work done, but her brain kept drifting back to the text she had received the night before. Who had sent it? It had been a photo of her standing before her mother’s grave. No message, just like before.

  There was no way she would be able to convince herself that the text was from a pissed off event planner. But whom would it be? Who would want to stalk her?

  She shook her head. Ignore it. Do your job. She shoved her phone back in her bag and stared down at her tablet. The sun was beating down on her back, but the shade above the table allowed her to see the image on her device. She didn’t make it a habit of working outside, but the day was too beautiful to waste indoors, and she hoped the fresh air would help ease her suffocating anxiety. Still, she felt as though someone had a vice grip on her throat and was squeezing the life out of her.

  She couldn’t allow some crazy person to knock her off her game, though. She needed to finish the web design for the gala, hire a caterer and band, and wrap up many other details for the event. She was lucky the hotel had an in-house designer who could set up the ballroom at hyper speed, and in the way Kate had envisioned. But there was still so much more to do.

  She didn’t like weddings because they took too long—but hell, planning something in a week wasn’t what she had in mind, either.

  Kate had suggested to Julia to invite some of the veterans whom the Maddox Group had already helped to become success stories. She wanted some of them to speak about their experiences, hoping that the personal touch would entice more support from the deep-pocketed attendees. She thought it would also be a great opportunity for the veterans to network and meet potential investors.

  The fundraiser would raise money and awareness to help veterans and their families. It would bring in new investors to help lau
nch businesses led by veterans. And, as Julia hoped, it would provide some relief for Michael as more individuals joined the cause.

  Kate knew that auctioning off Michael was a little gimmicky, but she also knew it was a surefire way to maximize attendance and rake in the dollars. A small smile wandered to her lips when she envisioned Michael in a tuxedo—for about the fiftieth time.

  She knew she’d have the same reaction that all the women at the gala would have—butterflies. Just like last night.

  For some absurd reason, she had longed for Michael’s muscular arms to wrap around her body, to protect her. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace, in the tingling sensation of desire that swept through her when she was near him. That was why she had needed him to leave her hotel room—she was beginning to doubt her ability to trust herself around him. Her body seemed to assume control and her mind took a distant second. Hell, more like a distant tenth.

  She’d been off her game since the moment she boarded the flight to Charlotte, in fact. It had to be because this was the city where her mother had died.

  Last night, she’d crossed a line by bringing him into her hotel room. She hadn’t been thinking straight. And when she opened up to him about her mom, he’d morphed into someone cold and broody. The man must’ve had his own issues.

  Kate startled at the sound of her phone.

  “Hi, Dad,” she finally answered.

  “I’ve been calling you for days. You didn’t even answer on your birthday.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with a client.” She chewed on her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit she had developed when she was a kid.

  “I want you to come back home. I don’t want you in that God-forsaken city.” His voice sounded a little raw, or raspy. Had he been yelling recently?

  “Dad, I’m fine.” Am I? “I like it here.”

  Except for the fact that I have a stalker.

  Kate cleared her throat. “I, um, visited Mom’s grave yesterday.”

  Silence.

  “There were fresh flowers on the grave. Who do you think put them there? Do Grandma and Grandpa visit?” It seemed unlikely, however. Her grandparents had abandoned their home on Lake Norman days after her mother died. They never bothered to pack their belongings or sell the house—they just left. They had been living in Savannah, Georgia, ever since.