by Candace Shaw
Megan picked up on the first ring. “Are you home?” she asked with a hurried anxiousness.
“Yes, and thanks to you I have company.” Sydney yanked the shower curtain back and turned on the faucet.
“Bryce?” Megan asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes, Bryce,” she whispered into the phone. “The man I can’t stand is staying here tonight because the doctor said I needed to be watched over for the next twelve hours just in case I have a minor concussion. Even though I don’t.” Sydney opened the linen closet and snatched a towel and washcloth from the stack. She glanced at her reflection in the vanity mirror to see a condescending expression on her face. Goodness. Is this how I’ve been looking at him?
“Oh...”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say? While I’m happy you didn’t call Mom and Dad, why couldn’t you call Tiffani?” Tiffani Chase-Lake was their first cousin even though she was more like an older sister.
“I thought about that, but KJ has swim class...or is it tae kwon do this evening? I don’t know. His schedule is busier than mine, and he’s only seven.” Megan laughed but stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry, sissy. Just try to suck it up. I really hate for you to be alone, and Bryce is a good guy once you get to know him.”
Sydney grabbed her brush and a few hairpins to wrap her hair, laying the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could use both hands. “He’s been pleasant and concerned, but more so for your peace of mind.”
She thought about their kiss. Their freakin’ passionate kiss that sent a shiver through her at the mere thought, but she wasn’t going to indulge that information. There was no need. It wouldn’t happen again, and she didn’t want Megan excited with romantic, whimsical thoughts of something more happening between them.
“That’s good. Bryce is very family-oriented.”
“I know. I’m going to take a shower and put on some sweats. Bryce is ordering a pizza—I’m starved.” Sydney wrapped her hair in a scarf and tucked in a few strays underneath. “I haven’t eaten since my coffee and bagel breakfast.”
“That’s your problem. You forget to eat, and when you do, its junk food from the vending machines at headquarters or some greasy fast-food place nearby. Do you at least have some veggies or salad fixings in the fridge?”
“Yes. I went to the DeKalb’s Farmer’s Market on Tuesday right before I went in to work. I’ll eat some raw carrots and broccoli, dipped in ranch salad dressing of course.”
Megan huffed. “Of course,” she said sarcastically. “I’ve heard your shower run long enough. Get in it and don’t keep your company waiting.”
“Yes, sissy. And don’t keep the senator waiting,” Sydney answered in a singsong tone.
The sisters laughed and said their goodbyes.
Sydney placed her plastic cap on and hopped into the shower. It was the ideal temperature, and she let the soothing water cascade down her tired body as she thought about her current situation. The man she loved to hate was in her house to take care of her for the evening. So far she’d done a very good job of keeping him at a safe distance, minus that kiss. She cringed. She had to get that kiss out of her head, but it was no use. Every time she looked at his luscious juicy lips surrounded by that neatly trimmed goatee, she was reminded of how his warmth had engulfed her, how he’d tasted her with tantalizing strokes like an artist’s paintbrush. The tiny prickles of his facial hair had rubbed against her skin in a soothing way. She’d never cared for a lot of hair on a man’s face, but it suited Bryce, making him even more handsome and charismatic. She’d seen him a few times with it shaven and was never impressed. The hair on his head was low-cut with soft curls even though sometimes he let it grow out into a short, curly fro.
I can’t believe this is happening, she thought as she dried off from her refreshing shower. This has to be a cruel joke. I’m spending Valentine’s Day with the man I despise.
* * *
Sydney emerged from her bedroom, relaxed in a pair of GBI gray sweats, to the smell of something quite delicious. It wasn’t pizza. Upon entering the living room, her eyes zeroed in on the roses now standing in the vase on the mantel above the lit fireplace. Frowning at the romantic scene, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had flowers in her home. They added a pleasant touch to the room that she barely used. Her nose guided her to the aromas floating from the kitchen. There were chopped red and yellow bell peppers on the cutting board next to the stove along with onions, carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. Bryce stood over a huge frying pan stirring and tossing the rest of the vegetables in.
“You’re cooking?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes roaming over her attire down to her fuzzy pink socks. “Yep. I was going to order pizza but then I looked in the fridge and I saw all of these healthy ingredients. You had some shrimp in the freezer so I thawed them in water.”
She stood beside him and inhaled the mixture of the organic vegetables he sautéed. She leaned over the skillet. “Mmm...smells like heaven.”
“Thanks. Just need to add the shrimp and the brown rice will be done soon.”
“You need some help?”
“You can stir this for a minute or two while I cut the shrimp in half.”
“Sure.” She scooted in front of him and reached for the cooking fork. His hands grasped her waist, and her breath caught in her throat when he slid his body over hers as he moved over to the shrimp on another cutting board.
“These are some huge shrimp,” he said, cutting them in the middle and tossing into a bowl with teriyaki sauce.
Scared to utter a word, she nodded her head in agreement. She couldn’t believe she was actually nervous around him. She was a GBI agent who’d interrogated some of the worst kinds of criminals, from drug dealers and gangbangers to serial killers and child molesters. She carried a gun, did karate and could bench press almost half her weight, yet found herself a fumbling mess around him. This is a first, she thought.
When his task was complete, she took a huge step back so he could retake his place at the stove, and she wouldn’t have to endure his body on hers again.
Sydney opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bottle of white zinfandel that had chilled for five days in anticipation of Friday night. She needed a gulp of it, especially after Bryce’s rock-hard body had pressed against hers. Even though it had been a mere innocent second, heat had erupted through her veins at his touch. She didn’t know how much longer she could tolerate him being there without wanting what happened at the hospital to transpire again. She couldn’t believe her thought process, but she decided to chalk it up to not being intimate with a man in a long while. The kiss had rumbled pent-up desires. That was all. It didn’t mean she wanted Bryce. She could barely stand him, even though he was being quite the gentleman at the moment.
“You want a glass of wine?” she asked, heading toward the dining room to retrieve the corkscrew and the wineglasses from the refurbished china cabinet that once belonged to her grandmother.
“Sure. It’ll go great with the stir-fry.”
Even though this wasn’t how she’d planned to spend her Valentine’s evening, she decided to make the best of it and to avoid conversations that would lead to their usual arguments—no matter how sexy he looked when he was mad.
* * *
“Well?” Bryce asked as he watched Sydney taste the shrimp stir-fry. They were sitting by the fireplace—her on the floor in front of it with her legs tucked underneath and him on the couch facing her. The color in her face was finally returning, and she didn’t seem as weak when he’d first arrived at the hospital. But what was still present were her blaze-filled eyes even though they had simmered down.
“This is delicious. I’m rather surprised you know how to cook.” She took another bite and moaned, closing her eyes. It was the same moan she’d exhaled when he’d kissed her
earlier.
Am I delicious, too?
He sipped his wine and tried not to focus on her tongue as it licked across her lips. But it was no use. She was adorable. Even with her hair wrapped in a scarf, no makeup and oversize sweats, she stirred something in the pit of his stomach.
“Despite what you think of me, I do have some domestic capabilities. No, I don’t cook often but I do know how.”
“I’m sorry, Bryce. You’ve been so wonderful to me today, and I keep finding ways to say something crass.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to your bantering with me.”
“Okay...I tell you what. Tonight, no arguments. We’ll avoid any conversations that have to do with our careers—especially cases where you may be representing someone that the GBI arrested.”
He laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. Today was my last day at Baxter, Clemmons and Strouse.”
She dropped her fork and her jaw to the plate. “They fired you?”
“No. I resigned. I’m in the process of starting my own firm. Something I’ve been thinking about for a while. When the senior partners told me I’d never make partner with them, I knew it was time for a change.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I know we have our disagreements, but you’re the best attorney I know. Do they realize how valuable you were to them? Did they try to stop you?”
“Oh, yes. A hefty hourly raise, bonuses, use of the private jet and a company Mercedes, but not senior partnership. I already have use of my family’s private jet and I own a Maybach, so nothing they offered impressed me.”
“You know, I’m kinda surprised you even worked for them. Why didn’t you start your own law firm earlier? You’re a Monroe. I doubt you would’ve had a problem attaining clients.”
“I’d thought about it, but sometimes you have to work for someone else in order to obtain the experience you need before branching out on your own. I’ve learned a lot working there, but I was ready for an advance in my career. There comes a time when you have to move on. When you’ve outgrown where you are.”
Sydney simply nodded her head with a faraway look in her eyes. Bryce noted her wistful expression. He wanted to ask her what it was about, but he didn’t want to pry. Besides, they were actually getting along for once. No need to ruin it.
“So have you started looking at office buildings?”
He finished chewing his food before answering her. “Oh, yeah. I have some things in motion. However, I’m going to take a much-needed vacation and go to Vegas next week.”
“You like to gamble?”
“No. There’s a motorcycle fest going on, so I’m driving up on Wednesday. I go every year.”
“That’s sounds like fun. Riding one of your bikes?”
“Driving my SUV but hitching the trailer up for my favorite motorcycle or two. You should go.”
“Some of us have to work,” she teased with a wink and leaned her back against the bottom of the chair next to the fireplace.
“True, but you need a vacation. When was the last time you took one?”
“Um...” She swished her lips to the side. “I...um...”
“You’re taking too long to answer,” he teased.
“Not since last summer to hang out with my cousins in Memphis.”
“Well, I’m sure your brain and body need some relaxation away from work. Otherwise you wouldn’t have passed out, and we wouldn’t be here eating my shrimp stir-fry.”
“Yep. Better than the pizza I was going to order,” she said, placing her empty plate on the table and sipping the last of her wine.
“You should seriously think about taking a vacation soon. Just hop on that pink Harley I saw in the garage and ride off somewhere for a few days.”
“Perhaps when it gets warmer I will.” She stood and gathered their empty plates. “Ready to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”
“I was hoping you would’ve forgotten about that.” Giving her a playful wink, he rose from the couch and took the dishes away from her. “Tell you what. I’ll clean the kitchen, and you start the movie.”
A wide, astonished smile crossed her face as she stared up him. “Wow. You cook and clean? I may have to get sick more often.” She grabbed the remote for the television and pounced on the couch. “Do you do windows and make up beds, too?”
He chuckled softly, turning on his heel to head toward the kitchen. “Only the ones I’ve slept in...next to a beautiful woman.”
She laughed sarcastically, hurling a toss pillow at his head. “That won’t be happening tonight, Counselor.”
Twenty minutes later, he strode back into the living room to find the movie on and Sydney curled up on the couch asleep. She wasn’t snoring this time, but she was resting soundly. He didn’t want to disturb her, so he placed the throw blanket from the back of the couch over her and turned the gas fireplace off.
Retreating to the guest room, which had touches of Megan’s decorating expertise written all over it, he removed his workout clothes from his gym bag and took a much-needed shower as his mind perused over the events of the day. They hadn’t gone according to plan. The meeting he’d had promptly at nine that morning was supposed to be a final discussion with the senior partners. Instead, it turned into them offering him everything but what he truly wanted. Plus, like he’d told Sydney, it was time to move on. Staying was like being a firefly in a glass jar, making it to the top but bumping his head on the lid and not being able to push through the little air holes.
Then there was Sydney. The last woman on earth he ever imagined he’d spend Valentine’s Day with or any other day. He wasn’t a romantic and since he wasn’t seeing any one particular woman at the moment, he hadn’t made plans for the evening. He’d received quite a few texts and voice mails that day and had considered calling one of them around midnight before Megan had interrupted his scrolling through his cell phone. However, he’d enjoyed spending time with Sydney and witnessed a side of her that he’d never experienced firsthand. Sure, she was still a pistol, but being with her today had been a welcome distraction from his life.
After his shower, Bryce ventured back into the living room to find her still sleeping soundly. He didn’t want to move her, but she needed to be comfortable in a bed. Her bedroom was on the other side of the house, and while she seemed fine, he didn’t feel at ease being so far away from her should something happen.
* * *
Sydney shot straight up, squinting her eyes at the sunlight that was streaming through the opened blinds. She wasn’t a morning person even though she got up early most mornings. She was never ready to see sunlight until she had a cup of coffee. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, which read seven-thirty. She slammed back to the bed and pulled the covers up over her head to shield the natural light. Her nose inhaled Bryce’s scent and she shot up again, noticing her surroundings for the first time. Black-and-white French country comforter with matching drapes and hot-pink toss pillows. While she was in her home, she wasn’t in her bed. She was in the guest room, where she’d told Bryce to sleep. Her eyes scanned the room. His suit and dress shirt were laid across the off-white chaise lounge in the corner and his gym bag sat on the floor next to the door. Slowly, she pivoted her head to the right of the bed and noticed she was alone. But the pillow had an indent and his expensive watch rested on the nightstand.
She pulled the covers back and stepped her bare feet onto the cherry hardwood. She had a habit of throwing off her socks in the middle of the night and was relieved that was all she’d thrown off, for she preferred to sleep in the nude.
The door opened, and Bryce entered with a tray. The scent of hot coffee perked up her senses.
“You look well rested,” he said in a chipper voice, setting the tray on the nightstand.
“I am.” She reached for the coffee a
nd sipped. It was flavored with hazelnut cream and stimulated her taste buds. “Thank you for the coffee. Um...how did I end up in here...” She paused and glanced at the other side of the bed. “With you?”
“You fell asleep on the couch so I brought you in here. I didn’t want to leave you alone just in case you had a seizure or something.”
“Oh...thank you.”
He’d spoken casually. No stumbling or hesitations. No reason not to believe him.
Sydney eyeballed the Greek yogurt with strawberries along with an omelet and toast. While she wasn’t a big breakfast eater, everything looked and smelled scrumptious. She grabbed the bowl of yogurt and sat back against the pillows.
“You slept in here, too?” she asked, stirring the strawberries into the yogurt while waiting impatiently for his answer.
He cleared his throat and slid his hands into his pockets. “I did...but way on the other side of the bed...in my workout clothes,” he stuttered bashfully.
Her eyes scanned over his Harvard Law T-shirt and blue sweats.
She nodded her head. His mannerisms displayed it was all innocent so she decided not to press the issue. He was just nervous saying it, and that was understandable. However, that was the only thing she could figure out about him. The kindness he’d bestowed upon her was a mystery.
“Well, I have to get going.” He gathered his clothes from the chaise and placed them in his gym bag. “Just relax and take it easy today.” He swung the bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys and cell phone from the dresser.
She slid over to the other side of the bed to grab his watch and reached out to hand it to him. She glanced at it and was surprised to see it was a Movado similar to the one she’d bought for her dad and not an overly expensive watch like she’d expected him to wear.
“Thank you,” he said, moving to take it from her hand. He then slid the watch on his wrist. “Remember to just chill out today.”