by Natalie Rios
I can really use a pick-me-up. Maybe I should check my Instagram feed. One of my friends is bound to have posted something that will make me smile. But I don’t even make it to the app because good news is already waiting for me in the form of a text message.
The second I read it, I let out an excited squeal. Though if you ask Brody, it might have sounded more like a bloodcurdling scream. Because the man came running out, guns blazing.
And I mean that literally. He ran out with a fucking gun in his hand. Which, of course, makes me actually scream with terror.
“What happened?” Brody demands, quickly eyeing me before swiveling his head around.
“Jesus Christ! What’s with the gun?”
“What happened?” Brody repeats, less patient this time. The big scary gun is still up, scanning the room with him.
“Nothing-”
“Whoa!” Kyle’s at the doorway, eyes darting between the two of us. “Are you two finally going to kill each other?”
“Absolutely not! What a ridiculous thing to say-”
“What. Happened,” Brody grinds out, carefully enunciating each word.
“Nothing! I got a text from my cousin Ellie saying she’s coming to visit me. Will you put that thing down, please?” I point to the gun. “It’s scaring me.”
“Charlotte.” I do not like the way he says my name. Something between a hiss and a growl. Though at least he complies with with me request, lowering his arm so the gun is now aimed at the floor. “Do not scream like that unless something bad is happening. Understand?”
“I didn’t scream! It was a yelp of excitement. Like yelling hurray to celebrate something.”
Brody stares at me like I’ve sprouted a second head before muttering something under his breath and heading back into his office. Leaving me bewildered.
“What in the actual fuck just happened? I mean, he totally overreacted, right?” I ask Kyle, who is still hanging around by the doorway.
“Weeeeelll.” He stretches out the word, awkwardly scratching the side of his head to avoid my gaze. “In his defense, it did sound more like a help me scream than a hurray squeal. I heard it all the way from downstairs. That’s why I ran up here, to make sure everything was okay.”
Shit. Okay, if Kyle heard it from the front desk, it must have been loud. “I’m sorry I made your run all the way up here.”
“Don’t worry about it. I have to admit, walking in on you screaming your head off while Brody’s holding a gun was kind of worth it. You two are hilarious together.”
“How could that have possibly been funny? What if he accidentally shot me?”
“If Brody shoots you, it’s no accident. He’s an excellent shot and our parents drilled gun safety into our heads from birth. We’ve been going to the gun range at least once a month since we were teenagers.”
None of this is stuff I want to hear. Guns and gun ranges are as foreign to me as lions and tigers and bears. Guns are that scary thing police carry to shoot criminals with. Not something the company president would keep in the desk drawer of his office.
“Why the gun, though? Would someone really break into the resort?” I can’t imagine this sleepy town’s crime rate being all that high.
“Weeeeelll.” Kyle avoids my gaze again, this time focusing on his shuffling feet. “It has happened before.”
“What!” Then, realizing that was kind of loud, I turn to yell through Brody’s door. “We’re fine!” The last thing I need is him to come back out here with his big scary gun. “What do you mean it’s happened before? Doesn’t the resort have security?”
Uncomfortable, Kyle shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “We do...now. But when times were tough, Dad used to cut back on security to save money. One time, we booked a retreat for a group of bankers coming up from New York. Some dumb kids got wind of it and thought they could make a quick buck by breaking in and stealing from them. Luckily, it was just a handful of dumb teenagers. Mom managed to scare them off by firing her rifle in the air. But the whole thing still shook her up and Brody’s had a chip on his shoulder ever since.”
As he well should. “How long ago was this?”
“About a year. Brody was working for that resort abroad at the time.” Kyle clears his throat. “Anyway, now that I have ascertained your safety, I shall leave you in the capable hands of my brother.”
His exit is abrupt and weird, but I’m too busy thinking about Brody to care. Things are going to be awkward between us unless I go in there and apologize.
We’re beyond knocking at this point so I just let myself right on in. Brody barely glances up at me, but he also doesn’t ask me to leave. Taking that as a sign to proceed, I close the door and approach his desk.
“Your mother was harassed by some burglars?”
“Such tact you have,” he mutters, jerking a thumb at the corner of his desk. I jog over and perch myself there before he changes his mind.
“What’s the point of having tact? You have everyone walking on eggshells, never asking the important questions or saying the things that need to be said because they’re too hard. Sometimes people need the truth more than they need sensitivity and politeness.”
The caveman grunts at that. When he looks up at me though, his eyes are grim and sad. So much so, I can’t help reaching out to give his shoulder a quick squeeze. That seems to be the only encouragement he needs.
“I got the call when I was in Switzerland and immediately cleared my schedule. I booked the next flight out here, determined to give my father hell for being so stupid. Never got the chance, though. They got into the car accident on their way to file the police report the next day.”
“Oh my god. Brody...” Without hesitation, I swivel on the desk and throw my arms around him in a bear hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“Everyone wondered how I made it over here so quick. I was already on my way. Just never made it in time...If I had been here, the break in wouldn’t have happened. They wouldn’t have been in that car-”
“Stop.” I grab both his shoulders and give him a rough shake. “None of it is your fault. I know you have a huge case of Oldest Sibling Complex and feel responsible for everything, but you have no control over the outside world. You weren’t their chauffeur. So maybe you being here means they don’t drive that day. But a car accident can happen at any time and to anyone. Those kids could have still broken in-”
“No,” he interrupts. “Because if I was here, security wouldn’t have been on the chopping block.”
“There’s still no guarantee those idiots wouldn’t have tried it anyway. Haven’t you seen those World’s Dumbest Criminal videos on YouTube? I saw one where this guy tried to steal someone’s car, but couldn’t because he didn’t know how to drive stick. And this other guy only wore a blonde wig and lipstick as a disguise, giving the security camera a full view of his face.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Still, I would have been here to protect them. Mom shouldn’t have had to pick up that rifle.”
“It’s not your job to protect everyone, Brody. And anyway, what’s the point of having a gun if you don’t intend to use it? Speaking of guns...” This is as good of a segue as I can ask for. “Why do you have one in your office?”
“For protection. In case anyone tries to break in again.”
“I get that, but what if you accidentally shot me?”
He scowls. “I’m not a fucking idiot. I would never shoot you.”
“Why not just call the police if someone breaks in?”
“The police?” He shakes his head. “The police station is a good twenty minutes away by car. And the station only has thirteen full-time officers. By the time a squad car makes it out here, the burglar’s probably long gone.”
Fuck. I didn’t realize just how remote this area is. I grew up in New York, a city with a police force that’s 35,000 deep. In Manhattan, there’s usually a cop posted on every corner. I’ve never had to call the police before, but then again, they’r
e always just kind of there.
Am I really safe out here?
As if sensing my panic, Brody grips my chin and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t worry. I came out with my gun ready, remember? I’ve got you.”
He’s got me. Those words are true in more ways than one.
I don’t understand what’s going on with Brody, but I’m not going to turn into my friend Liz. She likes to rationalize everything, dissect and analyze what’s going on down to the tiniest detail.
Me? I go with the flow. Things with Brody, while confusing at times, are absolutely fantastic. And like the saying goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t try to fix it. Why ruin a good thing?
He’s got me.
This big, strong man is willing to shoot someone for me. It’s a huge turn on and I have to leave his office before I do something stupid. Like drop to my knees and unbuckle his pants so I can suck him off. Drink every last drop until he’s bone dry.
But because doing that would violate our agreement, and I’m trying to prove to everyone I can be more responsible, I pull away and inelegantly hop off his desk instead.
“You should probably make sure Ellie gets a good room,” I call over my shoulder as I make my way out. “They own a casino, you know.” Closing the door before he can respond, I lean against it and let out a breath.
He’s got me.
Those words are all I can think about for the rest of the day.
Chapter Sixteen
I’m on cloud nine.
Even Brody’s gruffness (he’s having a bad day) can’t bring me down. I serve him his coffee with a smile and even surprise him with a quick kiss as I hand him each cup.
“You’re in a mood,” he comments after the second time.
“So are you. Mine just happens to be better,” I cheerfully return.
“And why’s that?”
“I’m having dinner with my cousin Ellie tonight.” I’m literally hopping with excitement and though Brody cocks a brow at me, the corners of his lips appear to be fighting a smile.
“I take it you’re close?”
“Very. She’s like a sister to me. Plus, she brought my nephew Benji with her.”
“Is his name really Benji?”
“Benjamin Franklin Stevens. Yeah, I know.” I roll my eyes at Brody’s incredulous expression. “But it’s a Kensington family tradition to have a naming scheme. Our parents were named after old Hollywood actors: Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando. Aunt Viv named her kids after presidents and first ladies, Eleanor Jacqueline and Grant Lincoln. Ellie and her husband went with founding fathers and women of the American Revolution. They have Abigail Adams all picked out, should they have a daughter.”
Tilting his head, Brody purses his lips. “And you and your brother?”
“Southern city plus a color. Charlotte Burgundy and Jackson Blue.”
“Burgundy? Why not Violet?”
“I think Dad wanted all of our middle names to start with B to go with Marlon Brando and Tiffani Brooke. It’s okay, you can laugh,” I reassure him. “Everyone laughs.”
“I wasn’t going to laugh. So you want to spend time with your nephew?”
“Well, and Ellie, too. And her husband Drew, I guess. They’re kind of a package deal nowadays.”
“How long are they in town for?”
Why is he so interested? This is honestly the longest conversation we’ve ever had. Okay, so we’ve definitely argued longer than this before. Let’s make that the longest pleasant conversation we’ve ever had.
But still. Cloud nine, remember?
“Just a long weekend. Ellie says they have an important meeting on Monday morning. They got in late last night and leave early Sunday afternoon.”
A fierce scowl mars Brody’s face. “Why didn’t you take the day off so you could spend the whole weekend together?”
It’s Friday. A day off would have given me two full days with Ellie and Benji and would have been perfect, but...“I talked to Tanner about it. He said resort policy doesn’t allow for new employees to use their vacation time until they’ve cleared their 90-day probation period.”
“You talked to Tanner about it? I’m your supervisor, Charlotte. You should have talked to me about it.”
Hmm, he’s probably right about that. But it feels weird asking Brody for something like that. Having sex with him blurred the line of our employee-boss relationship. I don’t want it to come across like I’m getting some sort of special treatment. Or make Brody feel like I’m expecting special treatment.
Especially when resort policy says I shouldn’t be getting any time off for a while.
Hiding behind the policy, I shrug. “It doesn’t matter in this case. Policy is policy.”
“Yeah? Well, policy also says we shouldn’t be fucking in this office, yet we’ve done that twice now.”
Well, then.
“Good point.” Besides our little talk about how it can never happen again in the office, this is the closest Brody’s come to acknowledging something even happened. I’m not sure if that means we’re never having sex again.
I mean, I would like to. And I think he would too. I think. Maybe?
Whatever. The point is, this is the first time he’s brought it up. And I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say now. Would saying “Fuck the policy, take me on your desk again” be a bit much?
Probably. Then again, Brody doesn’t seem to mind that I’m a handful. Exhibit A: the time I cleared his desk. And maybe that’s the key to getting more amazing sex: me being crazy forward. Hmm, but the desk thing’s been done already...
Maybe I should just start stripping? Give him a sexy little dance? But then again, what underwear did I put on this morning? Does that even matter?
“Take the rest of the day off,” Brody interrupts my lusty plotting.
“Really?” I’m in shock. He’s been in a bad mood all day and now he’s giving me the day off? Who is this man and what has he done with my boss Satan?
“Yes, really. There’s not much left on the schedule. I can manage on my own for the rest of the day.” He waves his hand towards the door. “Go spend some time with your family.”
“What about the policy?”
“I thought we already established we don’t care about policy. Are you trying to change my mind?”
“Nope!” I run across the room and launch myself into his arms, catching him off guard. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! A million times thank you!” I shower his face with kisses for as long as he allows me to, which isn’t all that long.
“Jesus, woman. How the hell am I supposed to explain these lipstick stains to people?”
“Relax, I’m not even wearing any lipstick. And just to spite you...” I plant one final kiss smack across his forehead.
Rather than dumping me to the ground, he hoists me up (eliciting a squeal and a mental swoon from my inner schoolgirl), and gently places me on the ground. I’m dialing Ellie before my feet even touch the floor.
“Eleanor!” I call out as I hustle to gather my things. No way am I giving him any time to change his mind. “Meet me in the main bar for drinks in five minutes!”
“But-” she starts.
“No buts! See you there!” I hang up and take one last look around to make sure I have everything. Purse, keys, phone. Check, check, and check. I logout of my computer and just as I’m turning to leave, I catch Brody leaning against his open doorway.
And he’s smiling. A huge, open-mouthed smile that has my heart pitter-pattering in my chest.
Blowing him a final kiss, I bolt before I give in to the urge to launch myself at him again. To say I need this girl time with Ellie would be a huge understatement.
I realize about 0.2 seconds after I spot Ellie sitting by herself at the bar, nursing a glass of water, that asking her to meet me here was a huge mistake.
“I’m sorry, El.” I plant a kiss on the side of her face. “I should have picked a better spot for us to meet.”
Ellie blink
s a few times, confused as to why I’m not giving her my usual greeting, but she quickly recovers and waves aside my apology. “No biggie. The casino has four bars. I hang out in them all the time.”
“Still...” I nibble on my lower lip, taking a seat on the bar stool next to her. I’m trying to be more considerate of others and this is an epic fail. “Leave it to me to invite a teetotaler to a bar.”
Ellie doesn’t drink. At all. Not even a little wine or champagne. Nope, little Eleanor Bonner has never had a drop of alcohol in her life.
Excuse me, Eleanor Stevens. I keep forgetting even my baby cousin has outpaced me in the game of life.
“Don’t worry about it. Seriously,” Ellie insists. “What I want to know is why we’re meeting in the middle of the day. I thought you had to work until 4:30?”
“I did, but Brody gave me the day off.”
“Brody, huh? When did he get upgraded from Satan to Brody?”
“Sometime while he was pounding me into his desk, I think.” Ellie chokes a bit on her water while I take the time to order myself a vodka and tonic.
“Things are going well, I take it?” Ellie manages to ask in between coughs.
“I guess so. We haven’t done anything since then, but he’s also been less of an asshole.”
“Do you want anything more? Besides the sex.”
I give her question some serious thought, but come up with a huge question mark. “I don’t know. We don’t know each other well enough for me to know what I want yet. Plus, you know how I am with guys. Dating’s not really my thing.”
“But you want it to be?” My eyes lock with hers. The little minx has the nerve to smirk at me. “I see the way you are with Ben. Sweet and nurturing. You want that. A family of your own.”
I do. Oh, how badly I do.
As cliché as this is going to sound, I hate being the only single one in my group of friends. All of my close friends are married, two of them with babies. And then there’s me, 31 years old and still single. It wouldn’t be so bad if I at least had a single serious relationship under my belt, but nope.