Break the Rules (The Flanagan Sisters Book 1)

by Claire Boston

  The hopeful look on his face was sweet. She grinned at him. “Yes,” she admitted. She kissed him again needing one more taste before he left. He gathered her close, and ran his hand down her back to her butt. Her body heated and she leaned closer. Damn she wanted him. She broke the kiss. What the heck, she deserved some fun. Playing by the rules hadn’t got her anywhere. “Want to come in?”

  “Hell yes.”

  She laughed as she unlocked the door and Jack dashed back to tell the driver he wasn’t needed.

  Anticipation stirring, she led him down the hall to her bedroom. It was way past time she did something spontaneous, and Jack was the perfect guy for it. She turned, drew him into her arms and claimed his lips.

  It had been too long for Bridget to take things slowly. Her body was on fire and she wanted him naked. Her fingers worked busily on the buttons of his shirt, while his hands snuck under her top. She shoved the shirt off his shoulders and then lifted her arms so he could rid her of her own top. Her brown hands contrasted against his lighter skin as she ran them over his chest, enjoying his muscle tone. She needed more. She wanted to forget her responsibilities and just feel. And damn he felt good.

  Quickly she unclasped her black cotton bra and threw it to the floor. His thumbs brushed her nipples and she threw her head back as glorious sensations flooded her and pooled between her legs. They had to get to the bed.

  She moved backwards, her hands tugging on his jeans to draw him along with her as she undid his button and zipper, pushing his pants and underwear down. He was sexy as hell. She couldn’t stop running her hands over him, and the sound that came out of her mouth as she stroked his manhood sounded like a purr. She wanted him inside her now.

  His eyes darkened as he pushed her on to the bed. She fell willingly back onto the mattress, and then fumbled with her own jeans until he grabbed the waistband and pulled them off.

  She couldn’t get any hornier. Her mound pulsed with desire, and when he brushed his fingertips lightly over her belly and down between her legs she had to have him, now. Lifting herself onto one elbow, she reached into the drawer of her bedside table and handed him a condom. “Jack, now,” she panted.

  He quickly sheathed himself and then his body covered hers. It wasn’t enough. His hardness pressed against her and she kissed him, needing to taste him.

  Slowly he entered her, filling her, and her brain short-circuited. All she could do was move and feel, moaning his name.

  Sensation built quickly like a tidal wave. She was on the edge, and then they both went over, calling out each other’s names.

  * * *

  Bridget lay on her back, her arms outstretched, and a huge grin on her face. That had been incredible.

  “Wow,” Jack breathed.

  Wow didn’t really begin to cover it. She just nodded, not able to form a coherent word.

  He leaned over and kissed her long and deeply. “I’m glad you broke your rule.”

  Bridget gazed up at him. “So am I.” It was past time that she had some fun, that she lived a little and tonight she’d lived a lot.

  “Got any plans tomorrow?”

  Shoot. She did. “I’ve got lunch at my mom’s.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah, we get together every other week.”

  He stretched and glanced at her. “Should I call a cab then?”

  Bridget hesitated. As much as she would have liked him to stay, it could get awkward in the morning. She sighed. “Yeah, my sister is picking me up early.”

  He reached to the floor, pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, and ordered a cab. She couldn’t resist running her hand over his back and down to his luscious bottom.

  He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Can I see you again?”

  “I’d like that.” She rattled off her mobile number and he saved it in his phone.

  “What about dinner tomorrow?”

  Her chest squeezed. He was as keen as she was. “I won’t get back until late. How about later in the week?”

  “Sure. I’ll call.”

  She was a little disappointed that he didn’t offer an alternative, until she remembered he was starting a new job on Monday.

  Jack got up and pulled on his pants and shirt. It was a shame to see him cover up that gorgeous body.

  Outside a horn tooted. “That’ll be my ride,” he said.

  Bridget stood up, threw on a T-shirt, and followed him to the door. She kissed him again, not really wanting him to leave.

  “I’ll call,” he promised.

  “You’d better get going, otherwise the cab might leave.” She stepped inside and put a hand on the door. “I’ll look forward to your call.”

  She shut the door and grinned.

  She’d have to thank Tanya for making her go out.

  Chapter 2

  Bridget’s cell phone rang, waking her. Groaning and reaching over to check the display, she saw the time and swore.

  “Morning, Carly. Are you on your way?”

  “I’m at the front door. Are you still asleep?”

  Bridget suppressed another groan and sat up. “I was. Sorry, late night. I’ll be right there.” She hung up, threw on some clothes and walked to the front door to let her older sister in.

  Carly stood on the doorstep, immaculately groomed as always. Her naturally curly brown hair was straightened to perfection and hung just short of her shoulders. She was wearing a knee-length gray skirt and a white blouse, and her feet were clad in a smart pair of four-inch gray pumps.

  Bridget leaned in to hug her shorter sister. “We’re going to Casa Flanagan, right?”

  Carly gave her a look. “Yes. I’ve come from a business brunch.”

  Bridget frowned. “It’s Sunday, sis. You shouldn’t be working.” She turned and led her into the kitchen, where she switched on the coffee maker.

  “It was a charity thing,” Carly said. “I’ll make the coffee. You go take a shower.”

  Bridget smiled her thanks and headed for the bathroom. Tanya’s bedroom door was open and she was lying face down on the mattress, still dressed in the clothes she’d worn last night. Bridget closed the door. She was sure Tanya would give her all the details when she got home tonight.

  Her thoughts drifted to Jack. She’d had such a great time with him. She was glad she’d broken her rule and invited him in. It had been … well, amazing was too soft a word to describe it. She’d never experienced such overwhelming passion before. She’d been consumed with lust, and the only words in her head had been the mantra – now, now, now.

  Bridget turned on the shower, then stripped off and stepped under the spray. As much as she’d wanted him to stay, she was glad he hadn’t. It would have been totally awkward to have him still here when Carly arrived.

  She hoped he’d call her today.

  After a quick shower, she dressed and met her sister in the kitchen where she had a travel mug of coffee ready to go. “Thanks, Carly.” Bridget took a sip and sighed with pleasure. “You’re not having one?”

  “No, I’ve had my coffee for the day. You ready? You know how Mama gets when we’re late.”

  “Zita will let her know.” Bridget grabbed her phone and sent her younger sister a text saying they were running late.

  The response arrived moments later. Late night, huh? Can’t wait to hear about it!

  Bridget grinned and locked the front door behind her. Carly was already getting into the driver’s seat of her brand new silver BMW. Bridget closed her eyes as she sank into the rich leather interior and took another sip of coffee.

  “You going to tell me about your night?” Carly asked.

  She opened her eyes. “Tanya wanted to go dancing. Said it would take my mind off not getting the promotion.”

  Carly glanced at her. “They didn’t give you the job?”

  “Nope. They didn’t even bother to tell me. I ran into the HR manager as I was leaving on Friday afternoon and asked him when I would hear. He said the new safety mana
ger was starting on Monday.” The familiar irritation bubbled up inside her. “They must have known for weeks and they didn’t tell me.”

  “I can’t believe they could be so stupid,” Carly said, her tone indignant. “You work your ass off for them. You know that oil refinery inside out and all of the guys respect you. You were the natural choice.”

  Carly was right. Bridget had been working as group leader of safety for two years and everyone had expected her to get the promotion. “I know. Doesn’t matter. I don’t know if it’s my age or my gender, but something isn’t working in my favor.”

  “They can’t discriminate on either of those terms. You should go after them for equal opportunity.”

  “There’s no point. I can’t prove anything. All it would do is make me less popular with senior management, and I’ve ticked them off too many times telling them truths they don’t want to hear.”

  Carly opened her mouth to say something else.

  “Just leave it,” said Bridget. “I want a whole day when I don’t have to think about work.”

  With that in mind, she turned off her cell phone. She wasn’t on call this weekend, but the guys on shift often called anyway for her opinion. Today they could contact the designated person instead. Bridget needed the break.

  * * *

  The drive out to their mother’s property took just over an hour. Carmen lived on five acres that Carly had bought for her after making her first million. She was fairly self-sufficient – growing her own food and with a coop full of chickens. She always said farming reminded her of El Salvador.

  Carly pulled into the long driveway and slowed as Zita’s two dogs came bounding out to greet them.

  “She has got to train them to stop doing this,” Carly said, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as the dogs darted around the car.

  “You know Zita,” Bridget replied.

  Their youngest sister was all about animal rights. She was too kind-hearted to discipline her rescue dogs. Aside from rushing out to greet visitors, the two animals were actually well behaved.

  Carly stopped the car close to the house and they got out. Carmen was already at the door.

  “There you are! I thought you’d found something better to do.” She spoke in rapid Spanish.

  Bridget resisted rolling her eyes. Her mother loved to joke about their busy lives. She said the same thing whenever they didn’t arrive on time. It didn’t matter if they’d sent a text to say they were running late.

  She kissed her mother on both cheeks. “I’m sorry. I slept in.”

  Carmen tutted at her as she greeted Carly. “Have you been out partying?”

  “Tanya took me out.”

  Carmen sniffed. “That girl never stops.”

  Bridget walked through into the kitchen where spicy smells hit her. Zita was stirring something in a pan. “Hey, Z,” she said, pinching one of the pasteles from the table. She was starving.

  “Hola.”

  She broke her pastel in half, careful not to let the stuffing drop out, and gave some to Mario, one of the young foster children her mother was looking after. Bridget winked at him and he grinned back.

  “Where did you go last night?” Her mother puttered around the kitchen getting them a drink, while simultaneously giving Bridget the stare. “Were there boys involved?”

  “I hope they were men,” Zita said, and grinned at her mother’s shake of the head.

  Bridget smothered a smile. “I met a nice man and gave him my number.”

  Carmen glanced at her. “What does he do? Where is he from?”

  “Mama!” Holy hell, she always wanted details. “His name is Jack, he’s from Houston but has been living in Australia, and I don’t know what he does. I didn’t want to talk about work because I didn’t get the promotion.”

  Carmen slapped a glass of horchata on the table in front of her, spilling some of it. “Oh, baby, why are you working for such fools?” She stood with her hands on her hips.

  As Bridget had hoped, she’d distracted her mother from more questions about Jack.

  Zita lay a hand over Bridget’s. “I’m sorry.”

  Bridget shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do about it. They obviously didn’t think I was ready for the position.”

  “But you have been doing the job for six months!” Carmen gestured emphatically.

  “That doesn’t seem to matter.”

  “You should quit. They’ll be begging you to stay.”

  “It doesn’t quite work like that, Mama.” Changing the subject, she asked, “What’s for lunch?”

  * * *

  After Bridget had eaten far more than she should have, she followed Zita outside to pick some fruit to take home.

  Her little sister had inherited her looks from their Irish father. Her strawberry blonde hair was naturally straight and she often tied it back in a ponytail. She always wore the most colorful clothes she could find. Today it was a bright red skirt, matched with a white T-shirt and sequined flip flops. Zita didn’t remember much of El Salvador, being only three when they’d left, and Bridget sometimes thought she was making up for it by wearing traditional festival clothing.

  As soon as they were clear of the house, Zita said, “Tell me about Jack.”

  Bridget laughed. “There’s not a lot to tell.”

  Zita pushed on. “Where did you meet?”

  Bridget sighed. “Tanya dragged me out dancing last night and hooked up with Jack’s brother. Neither Jack nor I wanted to be out, so we convinced them to go to a quieter bar where they could keep dancing. We chatted for a couple of hours, then he took me home. I gave him my number.” She shrugged. “We’ll see if he calls.” She really hoped he would.

  “Sounds like a gentlemen if he took you home and nothing else.”

  Bridget wasn’t going to discuss it with her little sister. “He was nice.” She entered the large greenhouse to pick some mamey and jocote, her mother’s favorite fruits. “So what’s the story with the new girl?”

  The farm was a foster home for refugee children, mostly from Central America. Their mother had insisted on helping when she heard how the situation had worsened over the past few years and unaccompanied children were fleeing to the United States. It worked well because she and Zita spoke Spanish and there were no men around, so it was generally the abused girls who were sent to them.

  “I don’t know the full story yet,” Zita said. “She’s been raped.”

  It was tragic that didn’t surprise Bridget. It was all too common for the girls to have been sexually assaulted either before they’d left their home or by the people smugglers who took them across the border. “Where is she from?”

  “El Salvador. We only know what she told immigration, and that’s not a lot. I’m sure she’ll open up when she gets to know us.” Zita placed another fruit in the basket. “She’s part of the new trial.”

  “That’s great.” It was a big deal. Zita and Carmen had been fighting for many years to stop children being imprisoned in detention centers. It could take months, if not years to process them, and the incarceration was hard on them. The trial was to test whether the children could indeed be fostered out in the community while their applications were being processed.

  Children who were granted asylum and had no family in the United States inevitably stayed at Casa Flanagan and became part of their family. The house had eight bedrooms, plus there were multiple small self-contained units on the property, where the girls moved as they got older and more independent. Celebrations were always huge in the Flanagan household.

  “What about Mario and Jacinta?” The brother and sister had been living with Carmen for two months now while the search for their mother continued.

  “We’ve got a lead. Their mother might be in Wisconsin. We should know in the next week or so.”

  “That’s great.”

  The situation in Central America was uncertain for many people. Mario’s mother had fled the country for the United States in the hope of find
ing work, leaving her children with her own mother. As she’d earned enough money, she’d sent it back to help get her children out of the country, but because she wasn’t a legal citizen, she never included her address.

  “It is great,” Zita said with a sigh. “But I’ll miss them. Mario is so cheeky.”

  Bridget gave her sister a hug. Zita had the softest heart of all of them. She always got too attached. “You’ll stay in touch. You always do.” She picked up the basket full of their harvest. “Come on, let’s get this inside.”

  Chapter 3

  On Monday morning Bridget arrived at work early to catch the six o’clock shift. She always made an effort to meet with all the operation technicians before they started to discuss any safety issues they might not be aware of.

  She walked into the supervisor’s office, placing her hard hat on the table. “Morning, Joe.”

  Joe, the outgoing shift supervisor, looked up from his computer. “Howdy, Bridge. Why’d you have your phone off last night?”

  “Out of range,” she lied. “Any problems?” She’d turned her phone on this morning and had listened to the messages. The only good one was from Jack, asking how her lunch had been. She hadn’t wanted to call him back so early, so she’d saved his number and would call him this afternoon.

  “A permit problem, but Ken helped out.”

  “Great.” She’d follow up with Ken, one of the safety officers.

  Joe handed her a report. “The incidents for the shift.”

  Bridget glanced through the short list. A twisted ankle and a level transmitter that was sticking, which meant a tank could potentially overflow. She sighed. So much of the plant was rundown and needed replacing. She had her own project to replace relief valves on the crude tower that were venting to atmosphere.

  “I hear the new safety manager’s starting today,” Joe said.

  “That’s the rumor.”

  “What’s he like?”

  She looked up. “No idea. I don’t even know his name.”

  “It’s tough they didn’t give it to you. We all wanted you to get it.”

  Bridget smiled. He was genuinely upset for her. It was nice to be appreciated. “It is what it is. Anything else I need to know?”