by BJ Harvey
“So about that…” I say, stepping sideways. Skye scrunches up her nose. “What are you up to, Cass?”
I look around the room then meet my big brother’s eyes. “I was thinking Skye and I could both move in here.”
Jamie’s eyes flash with surprise before a slow-growing smirk appears. “Two for the price of one then?”
“Um, hello,” Skye says, reaching for me and grabbing my attention. “Do you want to maybe ask me before telling the world we’re gonna be roommates? We need to discuss house rules, splitting utilities, driving privileges—”
I hook an arm around her waist and tug her hard against me, tangling my fingers in her hair and staring into her eyes. “You wanna move in with me, brat?”
“Do you want to move in with me, Cass?” she shoots back.
“Thought you’d never ask,” I say, before tugging her head forward and slamming my mouth down on hers.
“Stop kissing my girlfriend, Uncle Cohen. Jeez, what’s a boy got to do around here to get a little respect?” Axel huffs from beside us. One could say that Axel’s attachment to Skye has not waned even a little bit since he claimed her at Christmas. Maybe it’s because there haven’t been any new significant others introduced to the group.
We come up for air, and I look around the room at all these people I know and love.… including Ez in the kitchen, talking to Gilly. I can’t lip read, but Gilly’s expression seems nervous whereas Ezra appears to be trying to comfort her in some way.
He reaches out to cup her shoulder and tries to pull her in, but she jerks away from him. Skye and I move toward them. I know Ezra can take care of himself, but I’m more than willing to intervene to stop him from doing something he’ll regret.
The loud chatter in the room dims to almost nothing as more heads turn toward the impromptu show. Ronnie’s head shifts to watch her sister, Faith’s already locked on her brother.
“No. It doesn’t work like that, Ez,” Gilly says, her eyes locked on my brother from another mother.
He throws his hands up in the air. “What do you want me to say then? You’ve just told me we’re pregnant. I’m trying to do the right thing here,” he says loudly.
“I didn’t tell you so you’d goddamn propose.” She says, her voice rising. She looks up at the ceiling and mutters something to herself.
“Look, we’ll go somewhere and talk about this. I just want to be there,” Ezra says in a tone so soft and gentle, my mouth drops open. I’ve never heard him talk to anyone like that before, including his ex-wives.
“No, Ezra Kane Baker, I will not go anywhere. I’ve done what I wanted to do. I’ve told you. You know. Now, I’m going home, and I’ll email you about the next doctor’s appointment.”
Ezra’s head jerks back, and Ronnie and Jax start to move toward them.
“You’ll email me?” Ezra says, his voice getting louder now.
“Yeah. So you can put it in your schedule—if you want to come, that is,” Gilly says.
“If I want to—”
I shoot out a loud piercing whistle. His gaze jerks my way.
“Ez, come here. Skye and I have a question for you,” I say, tilting my head and urging him to move with my eyes.
He turns back to Gilly. “We’re not done talking about this.”
“I think we are. I’ll be in contact, and we’ll discuss details pertinent to the baby as and when they arise,” she says, matter-of-factly, as if discussing a business deal.
“She’s got a shield up so high she can’t see anything over it,” Skye whispers in my ear. My eyes are still glued on Ez, who right now looks like a poster child for conflicted.
“He’s not going to let this go,” I murmur.
Skye burrows in closer to my side. “No, I don’t think he will. Then again…” Her words drift off as Gilly turns to Ronnie, whispers something, then hurries out of the apartment, the front door closing loudly behind her. Ezra moves to go after her and Jax—wisely—stops him in his tracks. “… I don’t think she wants him to.”
I dip my head to meet Skye’s eyes. “You think she wants him to fight for her?” I point toward the door. “That did not look like a woman who wants a man to fight for her.”
“You’ll see,” she sighs. “I just know how it feels when the guy you catch feelings for tells you he’s caught feelings too. I’m loved up. What can I say? I want everyone to be this happy.”
I touch my forehead to hers, lifting her chin with my index finger to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “Want to sneak out of here and make each other even happier?”
Her eyes flash with need, and I know her answer before she even says it.
“I thought you’d never ask. I’ll go first; you follow.”
“Screw that. I don’t care who knows where we’re going or what we’re doing. Besides,” I say, giving her a hard and fast and promising kiss this time, “if I do my job right, they’ll all know exactly what I’ve done to you by the time we come back.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she says with a wicked grin, grabbing hold of my hand and pulling me toward the door.
“I’m banking on it.”
The End
Working For It - Book 5
Prologue - Ezra
EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER
“Is this seat taken?” I turn my head, my mouth tipping up with a wry grin when I see the source of the inquiry.
Gilly Nelson—Jax Cook’s sister-in-law, for all intents and purposes—stands there in all her stunning glory.
She’s five foot ten, with her long blonde hair gathered in a high ponytail, sparkling dark blue eyes, and well-maintained curves for days. She’s stunning—beyond so. It’s a sight I’ve enjoyed a lot in the past twelve hours, especially earlier tonight when she wore that clingy black dress made of a netted, sequined fabric that would’ve had any unattached red-blooded man fantasizing about all the ways they could get to what’s underneath it.
I know this to be true because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing all night. And since we’re both in Vegas for my best friend, Jamie, and his fiancée, April’s, joint bachelor/bachelorette party, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t entertained thoughts of proving the “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” adage to be true—preferably with the woman currently raking her gaze up and down my body.
I stand and pull out the barstool beside me. “A gentleman,” she murmurs. “A rare find, some might say.” Her lips twitch, her eyes dancing.
I shrug. “I’m simply the man my momma raised me to be—and my father made damn sure I became.”
Once she’s seated, I push her chair in and sit beside her, lifting my arm in the air to signal a bartender.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, tilting her body toward me, her thigh brushing against mine as she goes.
“Indeed. I thought everyone was calling it a night.”
She quirks a brow, her lips twitching. “You mean the couples who have anything but sleep on their minds?”
I groan and drop my head on the bar.
“What?” she asks with a sly smile that gets my cock’s attention.
I turn my head and meet her eyes: “I’m rooming with Cohen. Now I really don’t want this night to end.”
Gilly snorts, biting her lip as if to stop herself from laughing. I chuckle, and she loses the fight, soon joining me.
“Well, how about you let me buy you another drink…” She nods at the twenty-year-old malt in my hand, “…and I can help you avoid any awkward interruptions,” she whispers. “Because I don’t know about you, but it doesn’t matter how close you are with someone, no one wants to walk in on post-coital bliss, solo or otherwise.”
Well, fuck. Now there’s only one person’s post-coital anything I’m thinking of, and it’s the woman in front of me.
This is the first time it’s been just the two of us without any of our family or friends around. So far, all I know about Gillian Nelson is that she’s Ronnie’s older sister, and she knows how to wear
the hell out of a classy dress with Louboutins I want digging into my back.
Before I get to making that particular fantasy a reality, I’m going to find out more about this golden-haired goddess.
I sit up straight, catching the bartender finally moving our way out of the corner of my eye.
“How about I buy the drinks, and you find us an empty booth so you can dazzle me with your charm and undoubtedly stunning wit for the rest of the night?” I ask, quirking my brow.
Her eyes flash. “Twist my arm, why don’t ya.” She leans in, resting her hand on my shoulder and bringing her mouth close to my ear. “But don’t feel you have to play it safe and only compliment my personality and intellect, Ez. I didn’t wear this dress, and these shoes not to be noticed and appreciated, and I haven’t missed your continued appreciation all night. Don’t make me miss it now.” She brushes her lips against my cheek in a barely-there kiss before succeeding in knocking me—figuratively—on my ass. She straightens, wraps her fingers around my tumbler, and meets my wide stare before lifting the glass to her lips and downing the rest of the scotch like it’s water. She winks at me. “I’ll have another one of those if you will.”
Then she’s slipping off the stool, and my head turns to watch her—and her amazing ass—walk across the room toward the black leather booths lining the front windows. Fucking gorgeous.
A tap of knuckles on the bar knocks me from my impure thoughts, and I meet the amused gaze of the bartender who’s leaning his elbows onto the bar, his eyes drifting from me to the same sight I was just enjoying.
I look back to Gilly just in time to see her slide into a booth, her dress riding up as she does, giving me a glimpse of lace-topped stockings and a garter. Fuck! Just the thought that she’s been wearing that all night has me groaning under my breath. I can’t look away. “Make it two of the same.”
“Lucky bastard,” he mutters.
After reaching the table with our drinks in hand, I place one in front of Gilly before taking my place opposite her.
She takes a slow sip, the gentle undulating motion of her throat as she swallows the liquid down, commanding my attention. Her mouth tips up when she catches me staring.
“A woman who likes her scotch,” I say.
She grins. “A woman who has a taste for the finer things in life—for networking purposes at first, and for the sheer enjoyment of good whiskey now.”
I raise my glass to my lips and take a slow, savoring taste, swirling the liquor around my mouth.
She lifts a perfectly arched brow. “Do you approve?”
“I do. There’s nothing better than a woman who appreciates a good drink.” I lower the tumbler back to the table, taking the chance to take my fill of the beautiful woman in front of me.
Gilly is the whole package: self-sufficient, successful, sexy, smart, and a woman who has something on her mind, judging by her stocking-clad foot running up my calf under the table.
“So, Ezra Baker, brother of Faith, best friend of all the Cooks, tell me about yourself,” she says.
I tilt my head, fighting and failing to stop my smirk. “Oh, is this Twenty Questions?”
She shrugs. “Twenty would take too long.”
My brow lifts. “Somewhere to be? A hot date, maybe?”
She shrugs and takes another drink, drawing my attention to her scarlet-painted lips. “Depends on your answers, I suppose.”
“Ah,” I say, leaning into the seat cushion and stretching an arm out across the back of the booth. “Then hit me with your best shot, Counselor.”
She grins, and I swear I’ve just witnessed her superpower. I thought it might’ve been her sapphire eyes, or her long legs, or maybe her intelligence and wit. While those are all powerful weapons in her arsenal, it’s her smile that’s capable of sinking ships and ending wars. Men would lay down their arms and wave the white flag willingly for that smile being aimed at them.
Gripping her glass, she downs her drink and waves to the same bartender from before.
“Someone’s eager,” I murmur, catching a daring twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, you have no idea. I’ll start off nice and easy. Don’t worry, tiger. I’ll be gentle …to begin with anyway,” she adds with a wink. “But first, we need drinks.”
I throw my head back and burst out laughing, recovering as the bartender reaches the table.
“Ready for round two already?”
She doesn’t look away. “I’m hoping Ez here has a bit more stamina than that.” And there’s no missing the challenge in her words. Little does she know I’m never one to back down, especially when I can see the prize right in front of me and can imagine just how good it’ll be claiming it.
“Damn, you two better not start going at it right here. I’m all for a show, but I’m not sure the other patrons would enjoy it as much as I would,” he says.
Gilly’s eyes widen. Mine do the same before our heads both turn slowly toward the guy.
The cocky bartender has the balls to grin, and I like him even more. “So, I’ll just settle for taking your order. What will it be?”
Gilly tilts her head at me, raising her index finger to her chin and tapping her manicured nail against her chin. “Hmm…” She turns back to meet my eyes. “How much can you handle, my friendly resident architect?”
“Whatever you wanna throw at me, Counselor.”
“Okay then,” she replies with an approving nod, returning to the bartender. “Why don’t we start with two small Liquid Viagras.”
The guy chuckles and shakes his head. “Whatever the lady wants—”
“The lady gets,” I say, finishing for him.
“Two Jager and Red Bulls, coming up.” Then he’s gone, and I’m left alone, gaze locked with the surprising—and very welcome—woman across from me.
I lean forward, quirking my finger, and beckoning her closer. When she obliges, I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “Just so we’re clear, I’ll enjoy the hell out of the drink, but, touch wood, I’ve never needed any Viagra, and I definitely don’t need any help in that department when it comes to you.”
Her breath hitches, her eyes flashing with heat as they roam my face before lowering to my lips then languidly returning to my eyes. “Good to know, although the ladylike part of me should really insist that it’s just a drink.”
“And what about the unladylike part of you?” I say.
The instep of her foot slides higher to rest on the inside of my knee. When my leg twitches, her half-grin slowly appears. “She thinks that whoever can order the dirtiest cocktail the lovely bartender can make might just get to decide how the rest of the night plays out.”
I nod in approval, slipping my hand under the table and lifting her foot to rest on top of my leg. Engaging my thumb, I run slow, deepening circles over her arch, seeking—and getting—an arousing soft moan from my sexy drinking partner.
“So, these questions…” I ask.
She licks her lips in a move that has me shifting in my seat. “Okay. Favorite color?”
My brows jump up. “Really? That’s what you want to start with?”
Gilly shrugs. “It’s not like I’m going to jump into the juicy ones straight away. I’m a trained interrogator; I’ve got to get my subject comfortable first.”
I knead my thumb into her foot, earning a gratifying flutter of her lashes and parting of her lips.
“You don’t play fair,” she murmurs.
I chuckle. “You’re not the only one with your eyes on the prize. I always play to win.” I smooth my palm over her ankle. Her breathing quickens, and with her as affected as I am, I’m even keener to see where this night will take us.
I lock my eyes with hers. “Red.”
She nods just as the bartender arrives with our drinks. I finish off my scotch before he clears it away and leaves again.
“And yours?”
“Gold.”
“You like to come first?”
“And any man who isn’t fully on boar
d with that philosophy isn’t worthy of my time and intentions.”
I lift the newly delivered cocktail and hold it out between us, watching as she does the same with hers. I gently touch our glasses together. “I wholeheartedly support your mission to always come first.” I nod her way. “You’re up, Counselor. Better make it a good one.”
“Alright. Boxers or briefs?”
“Calvins to the day I die. They’re very …supportive.”
“And I bet there’s a lot to fill them out,” she shoots back with a sly smile. Oh, she has no idea. But she will.
My gaze drops to her lips. She pulls the straw into her mouth. Good lord. Looking up through her lashes, she takes a long, slow draw, hollowing her cheeks as she does it. Images of her wrapping her lips around something else fill my brain.
She lowers her drink back onto the table. “Your turn, Ezra. Hit me with your best shot,” she says with a saucy wink.
“Okay, hmmm…” I tap my fingers on the wood, my other hand still softly massaging her foot. I’m so hard; I’m at risk of punching a hole through the table and making a new centerpiece. I tilt my head and study her, flip-flopping between going straight for the kill or easing into it. I’m determined to get this woman naked and screaming my name by the end of the night.
She flexes her toes against my leg. “C’mon, hotshot,” she says with a salacious smile. “Ask the first thing that pops into your head.”
“Do you always wear sexy lingerie like that?” My eyes drop to the flash of red peeking out of the low neckline of her dress.
“I’ve been an aficionado of satin and lace since I was old enough to buy my own.”
I nod, slowly dragging my heated gaze over the undoubtedly soft skin of her neck, eyeing the trail my tongue is going to take down her body the minute I get her beautifully bare and laid out in front of me.
“How about you? Do you appreciate a woman who’s made it her mission to keep Agent Provocateur in business?”
I lean forward, pushing my palm higher up her calf as I do, loving the way her teeth bite into her bottom lip. My voice dips low as I meet her stare. “Yet again, a cause we both fully support.”