by Ruby Forrest
When she’d taken the last step before the table, she halted, and he got a feel for her height. She was definitely tall, maybe 5’7” but with the heels, he didn’t have to look very far down at her. Instead of being intimidated, he was actually appreciative. Normally he had to bend down to conversate with women. Or…other things…
“Are you my date?” She asked, her voice husky and soft.
He was already hard, but at her words, he grew almost desperate to touch her. Her voice was like she was – dangerous, bold, and feminine all at the same time. “Brett Hardy.”
She cocked her head like she couldn’t place the name but had heard it before. “Why does that sound so familiar?”
Oh, please God don’t tell me we’ve met before, he mentally pled to anyone that was listening. She definitely didn’t look familiar, so he hoped it was just that she’d read about him in a business magazine or the tabloids. Well, maybe not the tabloids. “If you’re in the business world, we might’ve crossed paths before.”
She shook her head, her blond curls bouncing. “No, I’m not in the business scene, and no, we’ve definitely not met before. Are you famous, Mr. Hardy?”
He chuckled. “Depends on what you’d call famous.”
“Something about ‘eligible bachelor’ comes to mind…” She looked at him coyly underneath her black eyelashes as he helped her with her chair.
“So, you’re a tabloid reader then, are you?” He asked teasingly.
“Not daily, but sure, I like to pay attention to what’s going on in the world. And with celebrities,” she admitted, looking a little embarrassed.
“I’ll admit, sometimes I get caught up in the stories too,” he said, letting her off the hook and taking his own seat. “I didn’t catch your name…”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, flushed. “I’m sorry. It’d probably be nice if you verified it’s actually me that you’re meeting. I’m Bronte Welch.”
“I don’t recognize that name at all, but I’m sure we move in the same circles. Do you live in Linnton?” He took his linen napkin off the table and placed it on his lap, noting that she followed his lead and did the same.
She laughed. “Definitely not. I’m more…blue collar…than that.”
He paused with his reach for his water glass. “Even I can tell you’re not blue collar, Ms. Welch.”
She smiled at him, her red lips drawing him in. “Maybe not, but I’m not from your circle. I promise you that.”
He nodded. “That’s alright with me. Actually, it makes it easier. Less drama when we’re not all co-mingled with the same contacts. So, what do you do for work?”
Waiting for the server to take their orders first, she paused before answering. “I’m an interior designer.”
It wasn’t what he had been expecting, but actually it made sense. She had great style, from what he could tell, and he told her so. She blushed becomingly, and it only made him want to spoil her a little more. Down, Hardy, he told himself. He needed to stick to the plan. Business arrangement only. He couldn’t fall for someone. It would just make it more difficult to keep his secrets.
He kept the conversation light after that point, listening to her work stories, hearing some of her past relationship issues. They seemed to have that in common at least – the failure to make a lasting relationship work without either ruining it or letting the other person ruin it for them.
At the end of the meal, he was disappointed that it was coming to an end. He didn’t even wait for dessert to ask her if she’d go on another date with him.
***
Bronte was surprised that Brett had asked her on another date so soon. It wasn’t that they didn’t have chemistry – there were so many sparks between them, she was more concerned about getting singed. But they were clearly from different worlds. His suit alone probably cost more than her rent. Or three months of it, more likely. Everything from the way he sat, ate, and stood told her that he had money. And not just a little of it – like loads of it. He was so composed that it made her feel like a little bit of a mess, and she was the most collected person she knew. He was polite, charming, and incredibly handsome, and she was surprised he’d had any problems finding someone to date.
He did have a little bit of the bad boy look to him, although he’d only been straight charming to her. But she could see the bottom of a tattoo peeking out from underneath his rolled-up sleeve, and he had a faux hawk that had her dying to slide her hands through his dark hair. He had a five o’clock shadow that made him seem just the right amount of dangerous, and he filled out his suit incredibly well. He either worked out every day, or did some kind of hobby that kept his biceps straining against their material confines and making his shoulders seem ridiculously large.
“Ms. Welch?” He was looking at her, concerned. Probably because, like an idiot, she’d been too caught up in her musings about his hotness to answer his question.
“Call me Bronte,” she replied. It was only fair, since she’d already been calling him Brett in her mind.
“Bronte,” he acquiesced, and her heart melted a little at the sound of his deep voice enunciating her own name perfectly.
“I would love to go on a second date with you.” As if she could turn down a guy that was perfection itself? She couldn’t see anything wrong with him, and she’d done a fair amount of looking when his attention was elsewhere throughout the night.
He smiled, his perfectly straight white teeth in stark contrast with the tan of his skin. “Great. Should I have my secretary contact yours?”
She laughed. “Or we could just text each other, like regular people in the 21st century.”
His smile quirked. “I guess we could do that. I’d need your number though. The agency doesn’t give out personal details to protect us both.”
She took a pen from her clutch and scribbled her number on a napkin and slid it over to him. “There. Problem solved. Now don’t lose that.”
He picked it up, looked at it, and placed it in his vest pocket. “I don’t lose things, Bronte.”
Something about the way he said it made her think that he wasn’t just talking about napkins. She got the feeling like he didn’t lose at anything. Brett was an Alpha male if she’d ever seen one. If that wasn’t immediately evident, it was when the check came out. Or, when the check should’ve come out.
When he was helping her into her coat, she noticed that the server hadn’t come back with their bill yet and she brought his attention to it.
“They know I’m good for it. They’ll contact my secretary for payment on Monday.”
She started to look at him in a whole new light. So, this is how the other half lives.
When they walked outside, he looked around like he was expecting someone. “Do you have a car waiting?”
She’d been so caught up in the date, she hadn’t even though to get an Uber lined up for the ride home. “No, but I’ll just –“
She was caught off guard by him opening the door to a sleek black Cadillac that was parked just at the end of the carpet from the restaurant entry. She looked at him, but he just motioned for her to get inside. She supposed they could share an Uber for the ride home. “Okay.”
She slid inside the car, attempting decency by covering her bottom when she slid across the black leather seat. To his credit, he didn’t make any comment about it and got in after her. The driver closed the door and suddenly the car got a lot smaller. Brett was a big man. A man that smelled like sin and cologne and a little risky. He was a far cry from someone like Adair, or really, any of her exes. But instead of pulling back, she wanted to see where this would go.
“Where do you live, Bronte?”
She shivered at his use of her name. The man had a nice voice, she’d give him that. Which made her look closer at his mouth. He had a sensual mouth and she had a desire to taste it. She shook it off. What was she going to do? Attack him in an Uber with the driver watching? Throw herself at him, begging him
to take her on the leather?
She gave him the address and then looked out the tinted window. She felt him next to her, smelled him, heard his breathing. She felt like he was surrounding her in all the best ways, heightening her senses to the point where her nerves tingled with his nearness.
When they arrived at her apartment, she made a move to get some money out of her clutch, but he grabbed her hand. “He works for me.”
She looked at him, confused. “Who does?”
“The driver, Robert.” Brett nodded towards the driver seat where an older man sat with his gaze forward.
She suddenly realized what he meant. “This is your car. That you own. And you own him.”
He nodded after each statement, grinning at the last one. “Well, as much as I am a demanding boss, I don’t own him. But yes, he works for me.”
She shook her head incredulously. This was going to take some getting used to. It was like a completely different world than the one she had been born and raised in. “Brett Hardy, you’re something else.”
***
He heard her words, fought back the urge to attack her with his mouth. God, she was delectable. But it had been his own idea to keep some distance between them, and he refused to let himself give in to temptation. He said between gritted teeth, “Bronte, get inside.”
She looked at him curiously. “Why what’s wrong?”
“If you don’t get inside in the next ten seconds, I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”
He heard her quick inhale, saw her pupils dilate. She had exactly six seconds to get out before he said to hell with it, and did what he’d been dying to do all night – kiss that cherry mouth until the lipstick was gone and she was writhing beneath him.
But she was a smart girl. She grabbed her clutch, bid him farewell, and walked inside. He could see her shadow against the frosted glass of the door once inside and saw her pause there for half a minute. He laughed out loud into the dark car interior. Clearly, she’d had to take a minute to compose herself too. That was at least satisfying.
“Where to, sir?” Robert asked.
“I need to run, Robert.” Part of why Brett enjoyed Robert was that he didn’t need to explain himself. Robert had signed a strict non-disclosure when he’d been hired, of which he had never, in ten years of service, even come close to violating. Brett had needed at least one person to trust, and his driver had been that man.
Robert drove him to a secluded nature preserve. Before Brett could jog off, Robert stopped him with a statement. “I like her, sir.”
Brett let out a crazed laugh. “I like her too. Probably too much. She’s not like me.”
“No, she’s not. But you’d be surprised at people. Sometimes they can handle the truth,” Robert advised.
Brett thought for a moment, but it was too tempting to consider. He had secrets. Secrets he couldn’t share with anyone other than his brothers and Robert. He wouldn’t be putting just his own life in jeopardy. He’d be risking theirs as well, and for what? So he could tell a woman he’d only known for a few hours his life story? No, better to keep her in the dark. Keep her out of danger.
“I’ll see you in a few hours, Robert.”
Robert nodded and got back into the car. He heard voices and knew that Robert would be listening to his books on tape like he usually did. When he was satisfied that Robert was distracted, he jogged off into the safety of the woods before starting to pull his suit off, putting it in a pile on a stump that he used specifically for these nights.
When he was naked, alone in the woods, he let his body start to change. He felt his forearm muscles grow stronger, his shoulders increasing in size. He felt his underfur start growing, followed by the overcoat of tough fur that protected him from all the elements. His ribs expanded, his body increasing in size until he stood 7’ tall. He dropped with a thud onto all fours, the transformation complete.
Robert looked into his rear-view mirror, seeing his boss change from a human into a magnificent black bear. He watched the change every time, his eyes taking in the anatomical changes that were impossible. He’d never believed in the supernatural, but every few nights he got first-hand evidence that shapeshifters existed.
He clicked back on Audible and let the characters in the story take him away. Reclining back, he set his watch for two hours and waited for Brett to run it out in the forest and come back to the car in human form.
Chapter 3
On their second date, he took her to Silver Falls State Park. She’d been there once with her family, but not like this. Brett had rented out the entire park, claiming that the mayor owed him a favor when one of his companies had supported his campaign.
Their third date was at the Sea Lion Caves. She’d never been so amazed at the silly creatures. Her ribs hurt from laughing at their antics, and at Brett, who’d made a fool of himself for her and the kids that had been watching. With every date he showed more and more that he was in fact a good man. She knew Adair would never have made any attempt to entertain her in such a way, let alone the children that were around them.
At dinner, she’d teased him about the ‘seal dance’ he’d made up and taught the kids.
He looked affronted. “Keep making fun of me, Ms. Welch, and I won’t take you on a fourth date.”
She smiled cheekily at him. “You wanna bet?”
His gaze narrowed. “I will bet. I bet you that when I kiss you, you’ll forget all those other losers that came before me.”
She laughed. “Oh really? You’re that confident in your kissing skills?”
“Mmm,” he acknowledged before taking a drink of his scotch. She’d tried it the last date and hated it, but he claimed to like the smoky flavor of the scotch. “What will you give me if I win?”
“Another date.”
“And if I lose?” He asked, twirling the liquid in the glass.
She thought about it. “Take me where you grew up.”
He set the glass down with a thunk, surprised. “What? Why would you want to go there?”
“I want to see where you came from. Who you were before…all of this.” She motioned to his blue suit, striped shirt, and brown designer shoes.”
He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright.”
Her skin tingled with anticipation, her impatience eating at her all through the beautiful, expensive dinner. All she wanted was his skin sliding against hers, his mouth finally coming to rest on her own. She wanted this for three weeks, throughout all three of their dates. She felt like she’d been patient enough, and now she just wanted him. She needed him.
He seemed to be moving at a glacier’s pace, so she asked, “Are you done with that? We don’t need dessert…I’m full.”
He laughed, the jerk. “Are we in a hurry, Bronte?”
She glared back at him. “Yes, actually. We have…business…to attend to back at your place.”
“Ooh, inviting yourself over? How forward, Ms. Welch.” But at last he stood, grabbing the jacket that was hanging over the chair. “Very well. Let’s go home.”
She tried to ignore the warm sensation that fluttered in her belly at the mention of ‘home’. She knew it was just a phrase, a slip of the tongue that he’d mentioned home like it was theirs, together.
This was clearly another restaurant where he didn’t have to pay right away, because no one stopped them as they left the nice restaurant and got into the car that was always waiting for them at the entrance.
This time, when she went to get in the car, she felt his eyes on her, seeing the way that she ‘accidentally’ gave him a little preview of what was to come when she was sliding into the car. She also made sure to hike up the skirt of her dress a little farther on her stockinged thighs, just short of revealing the garter belt she was wearing. His gaze was boring into her and she knew she was playing a very dangerous game. The fact was she didn’t care.
“Bronte,” he growled, placing his hands on
his knees.
She gave him a dazzling smile. “Yes, Brett?”
“Don’t play games with me,” he cautioned.
“I’m not playing a game,” she said softly. And in truth, she didn’t mean for it to be a game. She had no interest in making him want her, and then leaving. She wanted him as much as she hoped that he wanted her, and all she could think about was being with him. She wanted him so desperately that she’d forgotten already about all her exes and knew that he would clearly win the bet. Which was too bad, because she really did want to see where he grew up. She wanted to learn everything there was to know about him.
When they arrived at a sleek glass skyscraper, the car stopped, and Robert grabbed the door. Brett got out first, and then reached out to help her out of the car. He pulled her against him a little too close to be polite, and she fought back a gasp at the feel of his large body so close to hers.
She heard him thank Robert, and then tugged her inside past the lobby into the elevators. She noticed the buttons on the elevator were floors one through ten, and then there was a PH button which he pushed.
“PH?” She asked, curious.
“Penthouse,” he answered, watching her face for a response.
Of course, he would be in the penthouse. Because it was the best, and he could afford the best. She thought back on her 1,700 square foot apartment that she’d been so fond of, knowing that he’d probably just turn up his nose at the inexpensive finishes. Although, she had to give him credit – for being so disgustingly wealthy, she’d never seen him act like he was too good for something, or someone. It was one of her favorite things about him. He felt real, not like a celebrity that was putting on an image for the public.
He stayed on his side of the elevator until the steel box dinged cheerfully and opened up into a beautiful apartment. She surveyed the surroundings. “Who’s your interior designer?”