When Lightning Strikes (The Storm Inside Book 3)

by Alexis Anne

  Greg stepped up so that our fingertips were touching. “Well, then let me help you decide.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Fuck, what was happening? This chick, she was…different. She wasn’t here to get drunk and laid, that much was clear. But she was sex in a hot black dress, without even trying. I’d never had such an intellectual bar conversation before, certainly not with a woman who looked like her.

  I’d intentionally stepped things up a notch. I was in her personal space—close enough that it would normally force a person to step back, unless they enjoyed the invasion of their privacy. When she didn’t move, I’d grazed her fingertips. Now she was staring at our hands, but she still wasn’t stepping away.

  “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

  Only her eyes moved to meet mine. It was crazy intense the way she did that. “Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?”

  I couldn’t figure her out. Normally a woman would be eating out of the palm of my hand, or slapping me in the face at this point. Marie did neither. “I think I am,” I confessed. And she was getting me to be honest.

  “And why is that?” Her voice dropped an octave and she leaned toward me, closing the gap between our lips so that I could feel her soft breaths against my skin. She was playing my game and, quite possibly, beating me at it.

  Why did I want to make her uncomfortable? I’d come over here to check her out, not drive her away, and yet…I think I wanted her to reject me.

  “Maybe it’s my twisted way of giving you a chance to run away.”

  She stared me down and I realized she wasn’t breathing anymore. “Why should I run from you, Greg Hamilton?”

  “Because I don’t want to hurt you.” I said it automatically. It was like she was truth serum and I had no choice but to tell her exactly whatever popped into my head.

  But really? I was lying to myself. I knew for a fact I wanted Marie to walk away because if she didn’t, I would get hurt. Marie was exactly the kind of woman who could see through my shit. She would use me, and I’d thank her for it.

  “You are a very interesting man.”

  I was so fucked up because that one little statement made me happy. So did the smile on her gorgeous face. I held up my glass of whiskey and grinned. “Cheers to that, sweetheart.”

  Sinful body, dangerous mind. Was she worth the effort to seduce?

  My body was all for it, but I was holding back because my brain was on full alert. “What do you do, Marie?”

  Her eyebrow quirked up and she leaned back to pick up her drink. “I run a company. You?” She drank her Glenlivet like it was her usual. A woman who could drink whiskey was such a turn-on.

  “I run a company,” I replied.

  “So we’re playing this game, huh?”

  “Seems like it,” I agreed. “But you started it, not me.”

  “True.”

  No last name, no company name. She didn’t want me to have any information on her which meant she was either planning on finishing what she started and take me home, or she was planning on running out of here like her pants were on fire.

  “You drink whiskey,” I pointed out.

  “I do,” she agreed, holding up her glass like she was toasting me. “And it seems you do as well.”

  “I do.” I touched the lip of my glass to hers and we each took a sip. Marie was very smart. It wasn’t just the way she spoke or the fact that she ran a company. I could tell by the way she was feeling me out and studying my every move. She was doing it so carefully that most idiots probably wouldn’t even notice, but I did. I noticed because it was exactly what I was doing.

  It was amazing what you could learn about a person simply by observing. Take her clothes and makeup, for instance. The dress wasn’t a polyester blue-light special she’d grabbed at a local discount chain—it was a very nice quality fabric and tailored to her body. She’d paid good money for the dress and then even more to have it nipped and tucked to fit like a second skin.

  Something I very much appreciated.

  Her makeup was subtle, but perfectly applied to accentuate her features. It wasn’t gaudy. She knew what she was doing and how she wanted to look.

  And then there was the way she held herself. Shoulders back, core firm. She was confident, but not intimidating. She often spoke with her hands and used them to suggest where I should stand or look. She was used to leading.

  But there was something else that I wasn’t expecting.

  A hesitation in her eyes. The way they hardened and darted when I pushed her, told me that she was camouflaging her panic. My best guess was that Marie didn’t usually let many people get close to her. She was a contained person and getting inside her defenses was a feat reserved for very few people, and even fewer men.

  I should probably be flattered that she was talking to me at all.

  And yet she was here. She’d come to the bar dressed to kill. So maybe my suspicions were wrong.

  “Have we met before?”

  Her simple question caught me off guard. “I’m damn sure I’d remember meeting you.”

  She cocked her head to the side and ran her gorgeous eyes over me once again and shrugged. “I just keep getting this feeling we must have met before, but I think I would remember meeting someone with a foul mouth like yours.”

  I laughed. “Sweetheart, this is me being polite.” She had no idea what I sounded like normally.

  She smiled. “Yes, I can tell.”

  “Want to hear what I sound like in bed?”

  “I can only imagine my ears will burn.”

  “Along with the rest of you.”

  She swallowed hard. I was tired of playing games and trying to figure her out. If she wanted me, I was going to go for it. If she rejected me, I’d take that as a sign and be grateful I escaped with my balls still attached.

  “I barely even know you,” she murmured.

  Ah, there it was. Proof she wasn’t out for a good time. Well, not a good time with a guy like me. “Look, I’m low maintenance and a pretty good lay. I’ll be drinking over there.” I pointed back to the middle of the bar where I’d been camped for the last hour. “If you decide you want a screaming orgasm for dessert, you come get me. Otherwise, it was a pleasure to hear you laugh, Marie.”

  I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek—which was a dumb move because all I wanted to do after that was drag her out of the bar and straight back to my apartment. I hurried back around the bar as fast as I could without looking like I was running and hoped to God her friend had to go to the bathroom a lot for the rest of the night.

  I tried not to be obvious as I watched Marie and her dark-haired friend. The friend kept her back to me, so I never got a good look at her face, not that I cared. I was pretty focused on the blonde. The siren. My doom. I could call her whatever I wanted, it was all the same. Marie had taken over my brain.

  But hey, at least I was distracted.

  “Should I call Jake?” Levi leaned in and pushed a glass of water into my hand.

  I stared at the glass. “No. Why?”

  “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

  “I’m not drunk.” I could drink a bottle and still walk home. At least I thought I could. How much had I had to drink?

  “No, I know you’re not drunk. I’m the one pouring, remember?”

  He had a point. “Then what?”

  He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “Uncomfortable.”

  Oh. Yeah, “uncomfortable” was a bad word around me. “Shit.”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s showing?”

  “To anyone who’s spent more than five minutes around you.”

  I glanced across the bar. Marie gave me a half smile and a tiny wave as she and her friend walked out of the bar. My muscles tensed, and I knew it was because my body was pissed that I was letting her walk away. But I wasn’t going after her. I made my offer and she turned me down. She was too rich for my blood and I was better off walking home alon
e.

  At least that was what I kept telling myself.

  Chapter Six

  I usually liked Fridays. Typically I scooted out of work a little early, grabbed Natalie, and scarfed down an early dinner. I had the ability to see just about any game at any time, so we took full advantage of that opportunity and enjoyed Friday night hockey or baseball games, depending on the time of year. I was a little sad she wasn’t with me this week, but it was also nice to do something different because I needed to snap out of my comfortable routine. Comfort was good, but too much of it was stifling, and I’d let myself get too comfortable.

  Last night was proof of that. I felt more alive today than I had in a long while. Not because I’d gotten dressed up and gone out for fun, but because a sexy man had found me attractive—and I’d found him attractive, too.

  I was a woman and I’d kind of let myself forget that being a woman sometimes involved a different part of my body and brain. As much as I loved being a mother and vice president of a large company, it wasn’t the same game as the instinctual desires I had to make someone feel good—or to have them make me feel good in return.

  Just not anonymously with a stranger in a bar. I’d wanted to (badly) but my common sense had won out. Natalie and Grace were both right. I needed to start dating again. I would find a nice man, go on the appropriate number of dates, and then fuck him.

  Strange man in bar, bad.

  Appropriate dating, good.

  I’d start by discussing options with Grace over dinner tonight. I just had to finish a quick meeting first.

  Randall Evans was the starting left fielder for the Tampa Bay Rays and a longstanding client of Bancroft Sports. Normally I didn’t handle athletes, I just oversaw the business. But his agent was out on maternity leave and I was personally stepping in on her “highest value” assets. Or as we called them behind closed doors, the “biggest divas who made too much money to tell them to grow the hell up.” Some of these guys (and girls) really needed a kick in the reality pants. Most were amazing, but there were a few…and Randall was definitely one of them.

  “Hey Marie!” he called as I waved him into the hallway. We were just outside the locker rooms at Tropicana Field where the Rays were about to play the Red Sox. Well, in about three hours.

  Randall was tall and very muscular. Dark hair, a thin beard, and piercing dark eyes. He could be handsome if he smiled, but he rarely smiled, so instead he tended to look like he was angry all the time. Which, he was. Randall had an anger management problem that Bancroft Sports was forced to stay one step ahead of…and a seven o’clock Friday night game against the Sox was definitely something that might trigger a Randall Evans episode.

  We moved into the shadows and away from any prying eyes and ears. “I just wanted to touch base real fast.”

  “No problem.” He smiled, looking uncharacteristically handsome for a brief moment as he leaned up against the wall. “I had a feeling I’d be hearing from you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  “Yeah. It’s standard procedure for Miranda to give me a lecture before a big game and coordinate a plan for the night.”

  “So you know the drill.”

  “I do. Keep it cool. Play the game. Count to ten.” Then his smile faded away. “The guys want to hit Blue Martini after the game.”

  “I’ll call Anthony.” Anthony was a popular choice for personal security because he was excellent at sliding into the shadows at clubs, therefore staying out of the way, all while keeping a very close eye on things. He was also very good at getting the guys out of places before trouble got out of hand.

  Randall shrugged. “I’d argue but I’d rather not get arrested again.”

  “You could try and get your anger under control. Maybe not drink when you’re out?”

  “You only live once. I’d rather live hard than not at all.”

  I’d keep arguing with him, but I knew full well it was a lost cause. I’d thrown in my two-cents and he’d discarded it just like all the others had. I’d been working for my father’s company since I was a teenager. Before that I’d watched him work, sometimes even making friends with his client’s children. I knew how this business worked and how the attitudes of some athlete’s would never change. So I saved my breath. “Your life, your call. Just stick with Anthony and don’t get in trouble. Please? I’d rather enjoy my weekend off than spend it cleaning up after your ass.”

  He frowned and his usual angry look returned. “I understand. Your weekend will remain intact, as will mine.” We shook hands and he jogged back to the locker room.

  The stadium was very quiet. Food crews were setting up, staff was trickling in. But by and large, the hallways were empty and quiet.

  This was one of the few fond childhood memories I had of my father—the places we would go that were normally off-limits or typically crowded with people but were empty and accessible to us at off times. He didn’t bring me along often, but when he did…it was like magic. The places were filled with a vibe, like electricity waiting for the energy of the coming crowd. It was also special because in those times, my father was a completely different person.

  At work, behind his desk, he was a stern, methodical, cold man. But in the stadiums, he smiled. He joked. He loosened his tie and told stories. That was the only time I ever saw that man, and I felt like it was a glimpse at a life we could have had, so I held on to those memories. Probably harder than I should have.

  A familiar voice echoed off the walls and brought me out of my trip down memory lane. “Bring the kids through here—and make sure they each have a pennant—and a bell—before you walk them up to their seats, Okay?” Eve Spencer, the Director of Fan Experience for the Rays was walking a group of ushers around, and from the sound of it, giving them instructions for the game. “Marie! Hey! I haven’t seen you in ages.” She waved off the group and crossed the hallway to my side where I was standing near the bathrooms.

  Eve was a couple of inches taller than me, had a gorgeous head of dark hair, and dark eyes. She was wearing a very nicely tailored three-quarter sleeve Rays baseball t-shirt and jeans. She was pretty much the complete opposite of me from my blonde hair, to my suit and heels.

  “Just checking in with Randall before the game.”

  Eve frowned. “Ick. Friday night game…yeah.”

  I shrugged. “He says he’s cool, and he’s taking Anthony out with them tonight.”

  “No amount of personal security is going to keep him in line. He’s a loose cannon and it’s just a matter of time before you and I are doing major damage control on his ass again.”

  It had been almost a year since I’d gotten to know Eve better than expected, thanks to Randall’s temper. We spent the better part of a month dealing with the press. But in that experience I found an unexpected friendship. There weren’t many high-ranking women in our positions, and even fewer in sports-related companies, so we’d bonded over our uniqueness and agreed to meet up from time to time. But we were usually too busy to actually schedule anything, despite living and working in the same little circle of Tampa. More often than not, my conversations with Eve took place through email and a Google Hangout box that popped up on my computer.

  “Other than work, how are things?” Eve asked.

  “Great. My daughter is on spring break with her dad so I’m about to head out for drinks.”

  “Excellent!” she grinned. “Man, I wish I’d known. We could have had dinner.” She leaned in and lowered her voice, “I could really use a vent session. This season is killing me.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Trust me, I could fill your ears with stuff that would make you blush.”

  She looked up and raised an eyebrow. “The rumors about Bobby are true?”

  One of my “high value” clients was a very well-known basketball player who’d been making a serious round through the gossip mills for the last month. “Yep.”

  “Drinks. Next week. My house. We’ll talk inside and away from prying ea
rs. Bring the kid.”

  “You sure?” Natalie was a very well-behaved and quiet kid, but I still felt bad bringing her to places where there wouldn’t be other kids.

  “She still loves books, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Then we’ll let her loose in my library.”

  “You’re right,” I laughed. “We won’t see her for days.”

  “There is a very comfortable couch in there and a guest room down the hall. Feel free to stay until she digs her way out of the stacks.” Eve smiled and gave me a quick hug. “Have your people call my people.”

  “Do people still get that joke?”

  Eve shrugged as she walked backward to her group of waiting ushers. “Are you calling me old?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Go work already.”

  And with a final wave in my direction, she did.

  *****

  “Cheers to that.” I clinked my wine glass against Grace’s. We were halfway through dinner at Saison Grille, having a completely splurgy girl’s dinner out. So far, so delicious.

  “Seven, five, two, eleven.” Grace ticked off the men in the room. My plan to jump back into the dating pool was backfiring. Grace was taking over and determined to get me a date tonight. “You should go to the bathroom and slink by that eleven, he’s…wow, he’s delicious.”

  Grace’s eye narrowed on the tall, broad man sitting three tables over. He was dressed in a very nice dark grey suit with a dark red satin tie. He was absolutely an eleven, and also the backup quarterback for the Bucs. And also another of Bancroft Sports athletes. Since Grace didn’t actually follow any sports, she didn’t recognize him, and I figured that was an excellent reason to fuck with her mind as payback for taking things too far.

  “You know, you’re right.” I pushed back my chair and walked right up to Kevin Rogers without giving Grace a second glance. If I had, I would have busted out laughing.