by D. K. Combs
“Noah, don’t you dare. I swear to God, I’ll—” Her angry scream was drowned out by the roar of the bike as he kicked the stand up and took off. The drop-off was in the commercial district at the Roderick Rhodes building, which meant he was going to have plenty of time to get Alex out of his head.
Chapter Six
There were days when the breeze was nice and the air had just the right amount of chill to it. Days where work was easy and her conscious was quiet. On those days, Bristol kept one of the windows propped open in her office. Now, on a normal day, there would be an occasional chirp or squeak from a bird. One might fly into her window, or one might poop on it.
Those were normal things, and they were all manageable. She could handle birds and the problems they created.
What she couldn’t handle? The loud, obnoxious, resonating sound of an engine revving over and over again. How anything could be that loud was beyond her. Her office was on the top floor, well above the sounds of normal traffic and conversation, so the fact that she could hear anything at all from down below was downright appalling—and frankly, rude.
“I’ll have to call you back,” she said, slowly setting the phone on the retriever and closing her laptop. Luckily, it hadn’t been a client on the phone, otherwise she would have been angrier than she already was.
She stood. It was as if the revving sound knew she was coming to inspect it because the second her back was straight, the sound stopped, bringing complete and utter silence.
She frowned, going to the window to see if the offending object was still down there. She peered down to see...nothing. The angle was just off, meaning whatever ghastly thing had made that sound was hiding somewhere down there—or gone.
She sniffed, then turned on her heel and returned to her desk.
Her silence had returned, and with it, her motivation to work. Gmail opened on her screen as her laptop resumed life. She reloaded the page, seeing a new email.
Yes! she thought excitedly, clicking the email. This was what she’d been waiting for!
After the meeting with the board and the accountant, her engineers had notified her that they had finally finished the concept to the new cargo ship, and thank the Lord. The ships they were using right now were too heavy, too slow, and even with all the potential space on them, weren’t carrying enough cargo to max the profit.
She had gotten the OK from the board several months ago. It had been a project she had fought for, argued for. Something she had poured blood, sweat, and tears into. This was the second concept the engineering team had sent her, and as she looked it over, she—
Brooom.
She jumped and slammed her hands on the table furiously. All she wanted to do was work in peace. After last night, even with the small release she’d had, she was feeling better. More motivated. More focused. She was in her workflow, and every time that god damn thing made a sound, it ruined it!
She waited, eyes narrowed on her laptop. She swore that if she heard it one more time—
Brooooom.
“What the hell is this?” she snapped, practically lunging to her feet. “Is it a pissing match between motors or something?”
She was going to get to the bottom of this. She was going to give those annoying bastards a piece of her mind. How dare they do that in front of her office? There were sound ordinances in place, and she swore to herself that if they didn’t leave upon request, she would report them!
On her way out, she grabbed her coat and her personal phone, stuffing it in her pocket.
She threw open the office door and stormed out.
“Madeline, if anyone calls, please let them—” She paused, turning around. Madeline was not at her desk. What the—Wait. She was probably in the bathroom.
No matter. It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes for her to go down there, tell them to get off her property, and then come back up. She would be back in no time, and by then, she could remind Madeline to notify when she was leaving the desk.
She swung her coat over her shoulder and walked briskly to the elevator.
As the doors closed in front of her, the silence only served as the calm before the storm. She should do her work in here, she thought. Just bring her desk, chair, and laptop in here, turn off the crappy elevator music—who had decided it was a good idea to play this drivel? She would have Madeline find out. No one in their right mind could enjoy this crap!—and she could work in peace. It was so well insulated that she couldn’t hear a single thing—especially the motor piss war going on outside.
The elevator dinged as it came to a stop, and the second those two stainless steel doors cracked open, she heard it. The rumble. That awful, distasteful sound. How anyone could actually enjoy the sound of a loud engine was beside her. Part of the reason she had her Bimmer was because of how quiet it was!
She stepped out of the elevator, and everyone at the receptionist’s desk froze as her heels clicked past them.
“Carry on,” she said, waving her hand at them. Every time she came into the building, they all froze like they were a deer caught in headlights. “I’m not going to eat you,” she muttered, quiet enough that only she could hear herself.
The doors opened before her, and there it was.
The monstrous contraption that wouldn’t shut up. She crossed her arms, a feeble attempt at protection from the chill, and click-clacked over to the small party of people standing off to the side of the building.
“Excuse me,” she called out as she came upon them. The party of three couldn’t hear her. A black-leather dressed man was leaning over the handlebars of a black bike. His face was turned away from her, but that didn’t stop the indignance of the situation making her stride stiffer, quicker. “This is private property! You have no business being here.”
She heard a gasp, and that’s when she became aware of the other two people. A blonde male was leaning against a black Chevy truck with his arms over his, and when their eyes made contact, she paused. Something about him was so familiar.
Going by the way he choked, he must have thought the same.
“Holy shit—”
“Oh, Ms. Thompson!” The voice of her assistant broke her concentration, and her eyes snapped to Madeline. The pretty, petite blond stood there, a thick scarf wrapped around her neck, her shoulders all bunched and braced against the breeze. Her eyes were bright and curious, cheeks chapped.
Bristol frowned. “How long have you been out here?”
“Oh, not too long. Noah was just dropping off my brother’s bike for me.”
“I… You didn’t tell me you were leaving the desk,” Bristol said slowly, looking back at the blonde man, who was currently bent over coughing. He must have choked on his spit or something because his face was really red. She knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t place it.
“I only planned to be gone for a minute,” Madeline said, her face going pale despite her wind-chapped cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I—”
“Next time I would like to know—”
Broom.
“Dear lord,” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You! You, on the bike. Stop with the revving—just stop. That’s enough. There are people trying to work here—”
The man stopped, the engine settling down. He took the keys out of the ignition and then turned around, arm half-way outstretched.
When their eyes met, the keys fell to the ground.
Her heart stopped beating.
Her face went pale.
Her eyes...couldn’t look away.
This had to be some sick joke. Some sick, screwed up joke. Or, better yet, last night had all been a dream, a premonition or something. Maybe she was in the Twilight Zone and she was experiencing her worst nightmare. Maybe she had finally had a mental break from the stress of her job. Maybe she had just died and went to hell and this was her purgatory.
Whatever it was, she refused to believe this was real.
“Of course it’s real. You deserve the embarrassment. Worthless, d
isgusting. Just like her.”
“Hey, there,” the blonde man said, obviously recovered from his bronchial attack. He held out his hand, all but bursting with restrained laughter. “Name is Chase, and this is the man that fin—” He cut off when the dark haired man from last night elbowed him in the stomach.
What had Madeline said his name was?
Noah?
Through the shocked, mortified haze, she admitted that the name suited him. Suited him...perfectly. It matched the brooding flash of his eyes, the hard set of his jaw. It matched the slow, calculated way he crossed his arms over his chest as he looked her up and down.
“Do you two know each other?” Madeline asked, looking between the two of them.
“Not at all,” she said quickly, at the same time that Noah said, “Sort of.”
She shot him a glare, then straightened her shoulders. She wasn’t going to let him phase her, not even the tiniest bit. As far as she was concerned, she didn’t know him from Eden!
“I do not know this man,” she said earnestly. It was a white lie, but one she was willing to have on her conscious. She did not need Madeline to start making assumptions. After asking for help with Tinder, and admitting she wanted a one-night stand, Madeline’s mind was probably racing a mile a minute to come up with a connection between the two.
And, judging by the sudden grin on her face, she had come to a conclusion that was probably not too far from the truth.
Noah held out his hand to Madeline but kept his gaze locked on her. The shock started to lessen, replaced by intrigue. Then, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his gaze tore from hers and ran down the length of her body. From the top of her head to the soles of her shoes, she watched him take in every inch of her—and the look on his face was...unreadable.
And that wasn’t good.
She knew with her work clothes on, and her hair pulled back, she looked like a spinster. She freely admitted to that. However, when a man decided to finger you in a dark theater, and you saw him the next day, you’d think there would be a better reaction than just a straight face.
But there wasn’t.
And naturally, that pissed her off.
So what did she do? She gave him that same once-over, but her gaze was filled with contempt...even though that was the last thing she felt. He was actually a gorgeous human being, in a roughed up, mysteriously sexy kind of way. He was definitely not her kind of man, but with the leather jacket spread over broad shoulders, his chest thick and broad, she wouldn’t mind changing her criteria for him. His eyes, even in the light of day, were still an abyss she could fall into, and that jaw...
She hid her shiver. Stay strong, she told herself. Don’t let him know you’re thinking he’s a hot son of a bitch. If he was going to act indifferent about last night, then she could do the same.
From beside her, Madeline pulled out a wad of cash. Noah broke the trance by leaning down for the set of keys he’d dropped. He handed them over while taking the cash from Madeline.
“The smoke coming out was just an oil drip. It heated on the motor and started to burn off. Once it’s all burned up, it will stop,” he said to Madeline, eyes flickering to Bristol’s as he spoke, a frown growing between his brows.
“Okay, cool. I just didn’t want to give it back to him with something wrong. He would kill me since I’m the one delivering it to him next week.”
“You don’t have to worry about things going wrong on a bike I worked on.” She wanted to roll her eyes. So he was a cocky mechanic. How surprising.
Madeline gave him a small smile, and Bristol’s lips pressed. She knew that look better than she wanted to admit.
“You’ve been down here long enough,” Bristol said shortly. “Did you at least have someone cover the phones while you came down here?”
Madeline nodded quickly. “Yes, and she was only going to watch them for ten minutes, so I better get back up there.” She clutched the keys to her chest, gave Bristol a short nod, and then said a soft, “Thank you,” to Noah.
Bristol watched her run into the building, her thick gray scarf trailing behind her.
Then she turned to Noah, who was still giving her a silent, studying gaze.
The smile she gave him was less than pleasant. If all he was going to do was stare, then that wasn’t her problem—even if it did piss her off a little. Which was completely ridiculous, because she’d written him off in front of Madeline.
“Have a nice day,” she said with a tight-lipped smile. Hope you burn in hell, she thought to herself.
Infuriated, Bristol turned on her heel and started walking to the building. That dickhole, looking at her like she was some sort of oddity, like he regretted getting her off last night. But then, who cared if he felt that way? It wasn’t like he’d gotten anything out of it. She was the one who got the orgasm. She was the victor!
Screw him!
“Wait!”
She almost didn’t pause, but something compelled her to. If it had been Noah’s voice, she might have kept going. Instead, it was the voice of the blonde man, the one who had first recognized her.
When she looked over his shoulder at him, her gaze was less than welcoming.
“How can I help you?” she asked coolly, wishing she’d kept walking when she saw the tilt in his lips.
“Ah, my buddy and I—we’re going to the bar tonight, the one on Queens Ridge. I think they call it The Stir, now? I figured that after last night, you might want to join us, get to know us a little.” He had an easy charm to him—or would have, if she wasn’t so used to seeing right through it. In her line of work, she was faced with all sorts of people—included a hefty majority of fakes.
“Chase,” Noah snapped from behind him. “What the hell?”
“What? You two can’t end it at the theater,” he hissed before turning back to her with an overly cheerful grin. “The least we can do is buy you a drink.”
She pressed her lips before raising a haughty brow. “This conversation will be the last thing you two do for me. Thank you for the offer, but I will have to politely decline. Have a lovely day—and please, don’t return to this property unless you have actual business pertaining to Roderick Rhodes, Inc. Some of us could do without a motor pissing match.”
This time, when she turned on her heel, she didn’t stop for anything. That was the last of that, she thought, wiping her hands off with finality. Hopefully, she never had to interact with them again.
“We’ll keep a spot open for you!” the man named Chase yelled.
She wouldn’t have heard it if the wind hadn’t carried the words, but she did. After he called out to her, his voice lowered a notch to say, “Don’t worry, man. She won’t show. She has such a stick up her ass that she wouldn’t even make it into the bar before keeling over.”
“He’s right, you know.”
Her hand paused on the handle of the door, but only for a second. Then she pushed her way inside, the door closing with a finality that signified she would never lay eyes on them again.
Chapter Seven
Bristol tossed her keys onto the buffet as she entered her flat. Going through the motions, she turned on the lights, set down her purse, and slid off her shoes, her body running on autopilot as her mind raced.
She knew letting him touch her in the theater was a horrible idea, and if she’d known she was going to see him the very next day, she never would have let it happen, no matter how much her body wanted it. Now, because of her impulsive decision, she was left with two horrible feelings.
Mortification and anger, more of the latter than anything, though. How dare he look down at her like that? He had been the one to initiate the touching! He’d been the one to put his god damn hand on her thigh! How was she the bad person?
Because she had gone down there to bitch about the noise? What, had he thought that just because she could get loose in the theater, she didn’t have any sense of propriety in the workplace? God! What she wouldn’t give to wring his thick,
perfect throat, she thought, practically stomping into her living room.
And Madeline. Poor Madeline, she thought, walking to her room and unbuttoning her shirt. She’d seen that look on her assistant's face, had heard the infatuation in her soft, measly voice. She almost felt bad that Madeline didn’t know how much of an arrogant womanizer he was. If her brother went through her for all of his repairs on that bike, she probably interacted with him a lot.
Poor girl, she thought with a sigh. Madeline was a sweetheart—a little shy, but a sweetheart nonetheless. She didn’t deserve the likes of some horny bastard to go screwing up her life.
Then she frowned, tossing her shirt into the hamper.
That man probably knew exactly what he was doing, had probably been in the middle of womanizing Madeline! When Bristol had interrupted, she’d probably messed it all up for him.
That made sense, she thought, unzipping her pants. Yeah, that definitely made sense. It would explain the look on his face when he’d realized what was going on. The confusion, the shock. He had recognized her from the night before, but he’d moved on to Madeline, and Bristol had interrupted a catch!
She laughed bitterly...then paused.
Why was she getting so worked up over this? It was done. Over. She had no plans to see him again. So why was he still in her thoughts, bugging the hell out of her? She could get any guy she wanted! Shit, she’d even gotten a little piece of him last night. Who cared if he wanted nothing to do with her now. That’s how she liked it, anyway. One night, one time. She didn’t like to give men the wrong idea by using them more than once, and he was no different.
Men and women alike were fickle, fleeting. That’s why she only focused on her work, on her future. So long as she was busy with her career, problems like Noah didn’t exist.
She looked at herself in the mirror, at the tight bun her hair was pulled into.
“Pull it back or get rid of it… It’s disgusting—You’re disgusting.”
Bristol ignored the voice, gingerly reaching up to touch the tight strands.