“It’s okay. I understand,” Harvey immediately tells me, his tone gentle, coaxing me to look back up at him. At least, that’s how it feels since I do just that.
Dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, and a thick leather coat, he could almost pass as a bouncer at some of the clubs nearby.
“My mother left this morning,” I tell him when we both lapse into silence and I fear he noticed me checking him out.
“She called; asked me to keep an eye on you,” he replies with a smirk.
I flush from the fact that she’s still trying to run my life. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. Your mom is sweet. Have you guys always been close?”
I feel like he’s leading me, but I’m just not sure where.
“Yeah, always. Even when she was going along with the sham marriage and playing happy family, we were tight. My father would be away on business for weeks, sometimes months at a time. It was mostly just the two of us.”
“And you like this Marty Brown guy she left with?”
I think the question over. I have never had any reason to doubt Marty’s intentions when it comes to Mom. He is clearly smitten with her and kind to me.
“Yes, he seems nice.” I give a one-shoulder shrug. “He treats her with respect and makes her laugh.”
“I checked him out. He seems legit. Other than a low-level drug offense when he was sixteen that was expunged from his record, he’s clean.”
“You checked him out?” I ask on a gasp, not sure how I feel about this. Does he do that with everyone he meets? Or did he get a bad feeling about Marty?
“I wanted to be sure she was making the right decision by trusting him.”
I’m touched he cared enough about my mom to make sure.
Glancing at him, he seems closed off, stoic. However, his eyes give away his true feelings. He gives the presence of being unaffected, but it’s just a façade.
I recall last night and how he reacted to the gunshots. He not only rushed to save me, but he seemed to enter a trance afterward. What was that about? Where did he go in his mind?
I’m surprised by my intrigue. I can’t even recall the last man who interested me past a quick fuck. However, I chalk it up to the fact that last night was crazy. We all got a shot of adrenaline, so it isn’t surprising some strange feelings were forced out because of it. I’m sure they will fade, though I doubt Harvey’s hotness will dim one iota.
Mom hoped for some romantic love story when she introduced me to Harvey, but that doesn’t mean we can’t indulge in a little action to reaffirm to ourselves that we are alive, and to relieve some pressure I sure as hell have felt since things took a different turn last night before we were interrupted.
It’s possible I won’t ever be able to have my cake and eat it, too, in terms of running my restaurant and being in a healthy relationship, but I can still enjoy a small taste.
“Nix?” Harvey calls out, drawing me out of my thoughts.
I flush, wondering for how long I just drifted.
“Thanks,” I rush out. “I guess your business really goes the extra mile.”
“Only for the clients we like,” he says on a smile. When his eyes drift over me, I wonder if he’s saying he likes my mother or me. Well, I guess I’m not actually a client.
Regardless, he is definitely sending me out some serious vibes.
I’m not misreading this, am I?
“Yeah, well, I definitely owe you a beer for throwing me to the floor,” I state after clearing my throat, hoping to defuse the weird tension surrounding us. However, it just adds to it with the way that came out.
Did I just offhandedly ask him out? When the hell was the last time I even bothered to attempt such a thing? Lately, my only questions run along the lines of: your place or mine?
“I’m up for that. When are you free?” He looks at me expectantly.
I’m thrown again. I didn’t exactly expect him to turn me down. I mean, hello? Free beer! Still, I didn’t think he would put me on the spot so I would have to give him an exact date.
“Well, I work most nights.” And days. My social life flatlined as soon as I bought The Daily and gave myself the schedule I have worked for years now. “But, if you are free tonight, you’re welcome to sit at the bar. I can get you a meal and a drink,” I offer, not sure if I want him to take me up on this or not.
My hopes teetered toward sex, not a meal, didn’t they? Why did I put the offer out there? I should have told him what time I’m finishing. I can’t seriously be thinking about taking a shot at Harvey, can I?
My last relationship was when I first bought The Daily, and it was a disaster. We fought constantly about my work hours and how I missed many events due to my new commitment. It ended up becoming an argument I could have in my sleep. Suffice to say, I haven’t bothered dating since.
My ex could have been more understanding, but I know I was in the wrong, too. I gave everything to the restaurant and almost nothing to our relationship. It ended up not being fair on either of us.
Regardless, nothing has changed, so why am I interested in Harvey? Why do I hope he pushes for more than just a meal? Why am I even considering how a relationship between us could work?
“You work the bar?” he asks, clearly having no idea how much my internal debate is rattling my head.
“Most of the time. But if needed, I’m in the kitchen helping, or out on the floor if we’re especially busy.”
The bar is the easiest job, and also the one that affords me the easiest access to keeping an eye on all aspects of the restaurant since it overlooks the seating area. Plus, I am close enough to the kitchen to overhear any drama happening in there. I got my start working in a bar, so making drinks and serving the odd customer wanting to sit there is secondhand to me.
“Will you be working the bar tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll be here.”
I like the fact that, even though he will get a free meal and drink tonight, he still wants me close. That has to be a good sign, right? Or has he taken what my mother asked of him too seriously?
Have I just inherited a hot bodyguard?
“Well, okay.” I smile shyly before it hits me that he hasn’t even told me why he came in here. After his talk about getting the license plate number, we spoke about Mom then arranged this. “So, what did you want to say to me, anyway?”
He tilts his head, his eyes piercing. I could easily get lost in them.
Why is Harvey so intriguing?
“What do you mean?” he asks, then pokes his tongue out to wet his lips.
I shift in my seat, wondering when it got so hot in here.
I have had some hot sexual chemistry with others before, but nothing quite this hot, or this uncontrollable. Am I seriously getting hard just from a two-second glimpse of Harvey’s tongue? What the hell is wrong with me? Is this what happens when you enter a drought? Should I seek medical help? Maybe I really do need to put myself out there and get laid.
“Nix?” he asks with a small smile.
Shit, does he know what I’m thinking? Am I that easy to read?
I shift again, sitting up a little straighter and tapping my fingers along the top of my desk. “Why did you come here? I thought you wanted to say something to me …” I trail off, wondering if the license plate thing was what he wanted to tell me. I guess it’s progress, even if it isn’t concrete evidence that can be traced back to Dad.
He grins. “I was going to ask you out, but you beat me to it.”
“Seriously? Is that included in the P.I. package my mother bought from you guys?” I blurt out.
Luckily, Harvey isn’t offended by my casual inference that he sells himself out to clients since he bursts into laughter.
Woah, his smile is blinding and makes him look younger and more carefree than I would have thought possible.
“You know, I’m sure if I offered that, she would have been right on it. The second she found out I was gay, she ta
lked about you nonstop. I probably know you better than you know yourself.”
I hide my face behind my hands, resisting the urge to murder my mother. She already has a murderous ex-husband to deal with, no need to add a son, too.
“I can’t believe her. I’m so …” I begin, my voice muffled before I move my hands away and look up to see Harvey is no longer sitting in front of my desk. Instead, he has wound his way around to my side.
He grabs the arm of my chair and swings me around until I’m facing him. Then he places both hands over the armrests.
I hold my breath. I can’t pull my eyes away from him.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Nix,” he states in his gravelly voice. There is something about his tone that makes me sit up and take notice. “She only said interesting things. You’re a lovable workaholic, who has a serious commitment phobia and is crippled with zero fashion sense.”
I slouch into my chair with each word he utters.
Gee, thanks, Mom. Way to sell me!
“Wow, I must have sounded irresistible,” I gripe, not that she is completely incorrect. I may be a workaholic with zero fashion sense, but I’m not commitment phobic. I just haven’t met someone who could possibly work with what I can give them.
There is a difference. One implies I’m not interested in love, and the other proves that I am just being realistic.
“That part came after I had you on the floor of my office,” he admits without an ounce of shame.
My mouth drops open as my brain blanks out, leaving me stunned at his blunt words.
“Wow, you don’t beat around the bush,” I mutter, suddenly feeling overheated again. Considering the snow outside and the shit heating in my office, that’s rather impressive.
“I don’t see the point in being coy or evasive. And honestly, her words could easily be used to describe me.”
My eyebrow rises as I consider his statement. If he’s admitting to being commitment phobic, then he’s likely suggesting something short-term here, which is probably for the best, albeit a little disappointing.
I will always prioritize the restaurant over a relationship, but certainly there is someone out there who that works for? There must be a man who has his own commitments that matches my own? Someone who isn’t only just interested in something short-term? Not that I’m even considering turning Harvey down.
I want more out of life than meaningless sex, but until I can find that man, then I need something to take the edge off once in a while. And I’m fairly certain Harvey would be a perfect partner to do just that.
“I think you dress just fine,” I admit, slowly moving my gaze down his body again. Since the lighting isn’t the greatest, and because of his dark clothing, I don’t get to see if I am eliciting any response in his lower region.
I fear mine is far more obvious, especially when I notice his gaze snagging on my lap. He makes a noncommittal grunt before he leans in closer, his face now inches from mine. I hold my breath as I wait to see what he will do next.
“How about after my drink, we go back to your place, so I can”—he trails off as his eyes begin roving over my body again before meeting back with mine—“check out the security.”
“S-security?” I stammer out, my mind racing with the possibilities between us.
“Sure. Plus, I should make sure your bed is … sturdy.” He is back to smirking.
When his hair falls into his eyes, I have the urge to move it out of the way so I can stare back into his hot, desire-filled eyes.
“That sounds like a good idea,” I squeak out as I question where all my sexual confidence has gone. I’m never this affected. I’m usually the one who is playing it cool, especially since it’s already been established this is something short-term.
“Or, you know, I could check your security situation right now.”
My mouth dries. Then I hold my breath when he leans in closer.
If Harvey doesn’t kiss me in the next ten seconds, I am going to deflate into a puddle of horny desperation.
Luckily, I only have to wait three.
He leans down until he is brushing his lips against mine, the stubble over his chin scratching my smooth skin in a delicious way. He moves his hands to grip my hair, pulling my head back so he can eat my face completely.
You can tell a lot by the way a man kisses, and I have had many kisses in my life. As for Harvey, his hands are demanding, his tongue is pushy, his lips are all-consuming, and his touch is magic.
I’m positive this kiss sucks my entire brains out. I can’t even remember my name, where we are, or why there is any need to hold back.
I tear at his jacket, trying to throw it off him. When all I do is succeed in moving it out of my way, I shove my hands up his shirt and roam over his bare chest. Thin hairs prickle against my fingers, hard muscles twitch under my touch, and I shudder again, imagining this man naked and all mine.
He groans into my mouth when my nails graze his nipples. Then he pulls me to my feet, dislodging my hands from under his shirt when he turns us and slams my back against the wall. My body barely recovers from the jolt before he shoves himself against me, grinding and working me into a state.
I’m not a short man, standing at over six-feet tall, but Harvey is just slightly taller. From this angle, I feel dominated, protected, and so fucking turned on.
I’m so distracted and affected by Harvey’s kiss, his touch, his body, that I don’t even hear my office door opening, or the obvious clearing of a throat, until Harvey freezes, his breaths brushing my ear.
It takes me a few seconds before I can look over his shoulder, finding Scarlett in my doorway, a huge shit-eating smirk on her lips and a hand fanning her face.
“Shit, is it warm in here?” she gasps.
When Harvey makes a move to step away from me, I grab his shirt and keep him in place. I am absolutely not in a suitable manner for any of my employees to see.
Being shoved up a wall in my office is bad enough, but seeing me with an obvious bulge would be taking it too far.
Harvey stays in place while I try to remember how to talk. I have done this for thirty years. Surely, I can form words.
“Right, well, I sent everyone home,” Scarlett continues when I take too long to remember how to speak. “You just gotta put the registers away. I’ll see you tomorrow. I want all the details.” She winks at me. Then, after another fanning of her face, she moves away, closing the door between us.
“Fuck!” I gasp, not sure if I mean that because we were just caught, or because the moment has passed.
Harvey grabs my face, his touch neither gentle nor harsh. I look into his eyes and see my own desire mirrored back at me, but he knows it’s time to call it quits.
“I’ll see you tonight.” His words sound like a promise.
I barely manage a nod before he leans in and gives me a quick kiss, not lingering enough for my liking. Then he steps back, adjusts his pants, and walks out of my office.
I take deep breaths before I collapse back down into my chair, trying to understand what the hell just happened.
Harvey came here with the intention of asking me out.
We have a sort of, not really date set up for tonight.
He gave me the best kiss of my life.
And he left me high and dry, with a problem I need to take care of alone.
I usually work seven days a week, and I always cover the lunch and dinner periods. Since we are only closed for three hours between the two meals, and since I have staff arriving to set up an hour before dinner begins, I only have two hours to myself during the day to eat, catch up on invoices, and do any orders needed. Sometimes, I catch an hour or so of sleep. My chair reclines to a decent degree, and I have a pillow and blanket stored in my bottom drawer. I also have lube and tissues in the drawer above it.
Given the state I’m in, and will likely stay in if I don’t do anything about it, I get myself off while tasting Harvey on my lips and envisioning his hand wrapped around my cock, ins
tead of my own.
I have never wanted someone as much as I want him. I just hope tonight is everything I am hoping, because I’m overdue for some fun. Overdue to be ridden into oblivion. I think Harvey may just be the perfect man to give me what I need.
But, like most things in my life, things don’t go quite how I planned.
Considering how things are going in my life right now, it makes sense that it all ends in disaster.
Chapter 4
Though there is sub-degree weather outside, the dinner rush is busy, with a lot of large table bookings—families clearly getting together early to celebrate Christmas. I have noticed more and more over the years that families and friends are catching up either before or after the big day. Probably because it isn’t possible to fit everyone in over just a couple days.
It works well for business because, while they appreciate having no dishes to worry about afterward, I appreciate them keeping business trickling over when the weather makes many people just want to stay indoors.
I glance over at the clock for the tenth time since we opened. Harvey still hasn’t made an appearance. I wish I had thought to lock down a time.
I have a million other things to worry over right now. Pondering over when the man who kissed my brains out earlier is going to pop in shouldn’t be anywhere near the top of my list. The fact that my mind has continually drifted to him is worry enough.
Even if things proceed with Harvey, he has already admitted to admiring me being a commitment-phobe. Hoping or wishing for this to be more than something short-term is fruitless. In fact, I need to take a step back and rein in my libido.
Harvey is hot, he is even irresistible, but I am not a slave to my dick. Then again, when Harvey does finally come in, I almost morph into a puddle of drool where I’m standing.
Black jeans, black belt, dark grey shirt, and a dark leather jacket. I am gone.
I Broke Into His Office (Love at First Crime Book 4) Page 3