Someone Like You

by Brittney Sahin

  I start walking again, moving through the crowd of strangers. I was planning on heading back to Grace’s, but I’m not sure what she’s expecting from me. How does a no-strings kind of relationship really work?

  “I’ll be okay. Just call me when you’ve got a name.”

  “You’re going to get through this. I promise,” she says softly then hangs up.

  I put away my phone and head to the docks, but when I get to my boat, all I can think about is that damn envelope.

  I set the record player on my bed and head to the trash for it.

  I still can’t bring myself to open the thing—it’s as if I’m worried there will be a personal invitation to hell from the devil himself.

  I open my safe and put the envelope inside, take a quick shower, then I head back into the city, back to Grace. It’s confusing, and it’s messy, this thing with her, but it feels good. For the first time since I’ve been out of the SEALs, something feels right. I shouldn’t be screwing around, but I also need to stay sane. And the way her body responds to me, the way her face lights up when we talk—I need that.

  “Forget something?” Grace’s security guard asks when I enter her building twenty-five minutes later.

  I nod. “Yeah. Is Grace home?”

  “Got in ten minutes ago.” He winks as if he knows there’s something going on between us.

  “Thanks.”

  When I get off the elevator, I come face to face with her neighbor, the man who couldn’t take his eyes off Grace even though he’s married. He’s with a woman—I assume his wife. She’s a tall brunette and pretty, but she’s no Grace. Hell, no one is or ever could be. Grace is a rare beauty whose presence fills the space around her and takes your breath away.

  “The carpenter, right? I’ve seen you coming and going,” the woman says and drags her gaze up and down my body. How has she seen me around but I haven’t noticed her?

  Her husband grabs her elbow and nudges her along. I tip my head and smile at them, not sure what the social etiquette is in this situation.

  “Good night,” she says, but I don’t look back. I don’t feel like dealing with a jealous, hypocritical husband.

  I hit the buzzer then stuff my hands in my jeans pockets and wait. After a minute, I hear all of her locks unclicking. I wonder if she added extras after Greece. God, I can’t even think about what could have happened to her in Athens without a serious ache in my chest. It makes my palms twitchy with the need to grab a rifle and take justice into my own hands.

  Once the door opens, I raise a brow and smile. “You checked the peephole, right?”

  “Of course.” She steps back, but I don’t walk in yet. She’s still in her work dress, but she’s taken off her shoes. “What are you doing here?”

  “Since you never have food, I thought you might be hungry.”

  Her lips are a soft pink as if the lipstick she had on has worn off. She glances at my hands as I remove them from my pockets. “I don’t see any food.”

  I press a palm outside the door, and her eyes drift to my forearm. “I was thinking we could order in.” My cock stirs in my pants because all I want to eat is her, every damn inch of her.

  “Oh really?” She holds her hand out and swipes it through the air. “Then by all means, come in.”

  I don’t have patience. Before yesterday, I did; I was able to resist the urge to take her into my arms. But now that I’ve had her, I can’t help myself—I step into her place, push the door shut, and take her face in my hands and kiss her. She relaxes against me, her lips opening, inviting my tongue’s entrance. When she moans, my hand falls to her hip and around to her perfect ass, squeezing.

  She pulls away, breathless, and brings her hands to my chest. “I’ve been waiting all day for this. I was hoping you’d be here when I got home, and now—”

  My mouth drops back over hers, stealing her words because I can’t control myself. I need her. Plain and simple. I wrap a hand around the nape of her neck and slide my fingers through her hair, feeling the silky locks as my cock hardens and throbs.

  She undoes my jeans’ button, then the zipper, before stepping back and lowering herself to her knees, shoving my jeans down as she goes. My back goes to the wall. She takes my shaft into her hand and pumps slowly before her mouth goes around my tip, and I groan.

  “Fuck,” I growl when she moves faster, and she looks up at me, our eyes connecting. I’m not going to last long. She’s going to shred me so damn fast. I don’t want to stop looking at her, but I don’t want to blow my load so soon.

  “I want to come while I’m inside you,” I say, my voice gravelly and deep as I hang on the cliff—about to fall. My hand turns to a fist, and I tap the wall to my side as my jaw strains, trying to resist the urge to lose it.

  And then I do.

  My body jerks, and I come, and she takes it all.

  When I open my eyes, she’s standing in front of me. She goes for the zipper at the side of her dress, and I swallow a lump in my throat as I watch the material fall to the floor. She’s only in a white lacy bra, her nipples poking through the material, her full breasts swelling.

  “No underwear?” I rasp as I stare at her smooth center and reach between her legs. She’s soaking.

  “I took them off when I got home. I was about to get in bed and get myself off because I was so damn horny thinking about you, and then you knocked—”

  I slide a finger inside her, and she bucks against my hand. “You teasing me, or…?”

  “Mm. Guess you’ll never know,” she says in a seductively soft voice as she tightens her thighs around my hand. “But since you’re here now, maybe we can beat our record yesterday. You think you can?”

  I tug her lip between my teeth for a moment then pull back a little so our eyes can lock. “Challenge accepted.”

  I’m not sure if I’m supposed to go. It’s nearly one in the morning, and Grace has finally fallen asleep. Her head is on my chest, and her arm is slung over my stomach. I hate the idea of leaving her alone, especially if she might have a nightmare, but I also don’t want to blur the lines we’ve set.

  I lift her arm, position her head on her pillow, and slide out of bed. Her eyelashes flutter a little, but I don’t wake her. I don’t know if I’m being an ass for leaving or not, but I’ve got to set some sort of boundaries and stick with them. I can’t fall for this woman. The last woman I fell for was Cindy, and look where I am now.

  I tug on my shirt and find my jeans and shoes. When I look back at her, stabbing guilt rips at my chest, but I’m making the right move. I can’t open myself up to this woman when I need to focus on Lily.

  Sex is sex. If I allow myself to feel something beyond that, what if that somehow jeopardizes my chances at getting Lily back?

  I can smell Grace on me when I get back to the boat. It’s late, and I should get some sleep before I get up in a few hours, but I can’t stop thinking about her. How her body fits so perfectly with mine, and the way she lets loose when we have sex. Her cries and moans, even yelling my name the last time she came—it’s such a damn turn-on to see this normally controlled woman come to pieces with me inside her.

  I peel off my jeans and fling them in the laundry basket by the bed. I’m already hard again, in need of her. I can’t help but wonder if Grace and I had met at a different time, could she have been the one for me? I’m a father, and she’s Manhattan royalty—but what if we’d been from the same world? Could it have worked?

  I didn’t realize I’d even fallen asleep until I dart upright in my bed, my fingertips buried in the bedspread on each side of me. My forehead and chest are damp with sweat as I try to catch my breath.

  Grace was attacked in my dream.

  I watched it happen, unable to help. My arm outstretched—and I couldn’t get to her. My body stuck in quicksand.

  My mind replays the nightmare.

  I close my eyes and fight back the anger that sears my insides. Knowing what she went through and that this guy is still alive k
ills me. My fingers twitch, and I ball my hands. My mind goes back to my last mission in Iran.

  My hand trembles now, and I open my eyes and rest it in my lap. This feeling, this desire to find that scumbag in Athens and murder him—what does that make me?

  Am I just as bad—a killer?

  Maybe I was wrong when I told Grace I’m okay.

  13

  Noah

  “Still no word from Cindy?”

  I look at Bella. She’s examining my work, walking around the room like an inspector. I feel as if I’m in basic training again, when they’d check my bed, my gun, my everything to see if it’s perfect.

  “She texted me earlier with another vague ‘everything is fine, stop bothering me,’ text,” I grumble. At least she responded. She didn’t answer my calls or texts yesterday.

  “I’m so sorry.” Bella’s shoulders sag. “But, um, this place is really coming together. Better than I imagined.” Bella’s hand glides over one of the cabinets in the kitchen before she reaches for her iPad.

  “You should be able to decorate by the end of next week. I already told Grace she’ll need to stay somewhere else for the big reveal.” I cross my arms and lean against the counter.

  “Perfect.” She tightens her grip on her tablet and taps it against her stomach as she squints at me.

  “What?” I cock my head, waiting for some sort of blow. I know my sis well enough to know something is coming.

  “What’s going on between you and her?” Her voice is softer than normal, as though she’s worried I’ll snap or react poorly to her words.

  I got a text from Grace this morning, which surprised me. She didn’t mention my disappearing act last night, but she did invite me to dinner tomorrow. She has a business meeting tonight, which kind of bums me out since I’m already anxious to be with her again, but it’s probably best not to see her every night. But I wonder if a formal dinner is crossing the line. I said yes, though. I can’t seem to get myself to say no to her, even if I should have when she first proposed being friends with benefits.

  “Noah?”

  Shit, I guess I have to say something. “Nothing is going on. In fact, I have good news.” I grab my phone and flip to my pictures. I’d been waiting to share the news about the Hamptons home—waiting for a moment like this. “I got us a huge job.”

  Bella sets her tablet on the counter and swipes through my images. “Wow. This place is amazing—and huge. Whose place? Where is it?” She looks at me with her Bambi eyes.

  “It’s Grace’s home in the Hamptons. Right on the beach. I guess this gig was a test run and she’s happy, so she wants us to remodel the entire house.”

  Her mouth drops open, and I swear she stares at me for a solid minute straight without speaking.

  I look her in the eyes, smiling. “You, uh, gonna say something?”

  “Maybe we won’t even need that investment from Jess and Luke.” Her eyes widen. “This is great news. You were there in person? You saw the place?”

  I bring a fist to my mouth and look away. If she sees my eyes, she’ll be able to read me. “Grace asked me to come see it on Sunday, which is why I had to bail on you. She wanted it to be a surprise.” Not too much of a stretch.

  “You two went to her beach house together? Alone?” She forces her way in front of me.

  Dammit. I drag my gaze up to meet hers. “What’s the big deal?”

  She holds her hands up between us. “No! Are you two sleeping together?”

  I shrug, not sure what the hell to say, because I know if I lie, she’ll see it on my face. “If you’re concerned about the job, don’t be.”

  “Are you kidding?” She gives back my phone as her hand darts to her collarbone. “I’m worried about you. You’ll get hurt. This is too soon after what Cindy did to you, and Grace is, well…”

  “It’s been almost a year. It’s not like I haven’t been with anyone since Cindy. Grace isn’t the first.”

  “I didn’t need to hear that.” She looks away and braces against the island with both hands. “But, Noah, Grace is—”

  “Grace is what?” I want her to say it. Maybe I need to hear it from her and remind myself as many times as possible that under no circumstances am I allowed to fall for her.

  “She’s not the best rebound option.”

  “That’s not what you were going to say,” I bite out. I’m the one coming around in front of her this time.

  “She’s rich. She’s this classy businesswoman, and you’re—”

  “Not good enough?” I rub a hand down my jaw, the stubble pricking my fingers. I need to shave, especially before dinner tomorrow.

  “It’s not that.” Bella lets out a breath and finally looks at me. “You’re the best guy I know, but Cindy screwed you over. The last thing I want is another woman hurting you.”

  I almost laugh. But hell, she might be right. I trusted Cindy, and she cheated on me. And now she’s trying to break me by stealing my daughter. Maybe I’m good at reading terrorists, but with women, I don’t have a clue.

  “End it now.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  “Fine.” She huffs, snatches her tablet, and starts for the hall that leads to the front door.

  “Bella, wait.” I don’t want my sister pissed at me.

  She halts but doesn’t turn around. “The last thing I want is to ever have to say ‘I told you so.’ But I warned you about Cindy in high school, and I’m doing it now. It’s not that Grace is too good for you. You’re probably too good for her.”

  Bella leaves, and I let her. She’s my sister, and she’s only got my best interest at heart, but I know Grace better than she does. I don’t think Grace is anything like Cindy, but that doesn’t change the fact that nothing can ever happen between us.

  My chest feels heavy, and I’ve lost my desire to continue working. I check the time, and it’s nearly five. I might as well call it a day. On my way out, I get a call from Jessica.

  “Tell me you have good news,” I answer once I lock up Grace’s apartment.

  “I have a friend who’ll meet with you. She’s booked during the day tomorrow, but she can fit you in at dinner time.”

  A small bit of relief hits me. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll text you her information, and you guys can work out the details. And she’s doing this case pro bono.”

  “What? Are you sure?” I step inside the elevator.

  “Yeah. She owes me a favor, so this squares us.”

  “Wow. Thanks, Jess.”

  “All I want is a play date with Lily once you’ve won in court,” Jessica says, and I can almost see her smile.

  Thank God for good friends. “Deal.” I end the call as I realize I was supposed to have dinner with Grace tomorrow.

  Can we postpone dinner to Thursday? I can’t meet up tomorrow.

  I send the text, and one pops up a few minutes later.

  I’ll have to get back to you.

  Having to wait to see her sucks. And the fact that I’m disappointed is a bad sign.

  Maybe Bella is right.

  Maybe I’m in way over my damn head.

  My new lawyer, Sarah, looks over her shoulder at me as we walk toward the docks. We just wrapped up dinner at a nearby place. “I really don’t believe she has a shot at custody.”

  “Then why the hell did she file?”

  Sarah checked the records before we met for dinner tonight, confirming my suspicions that the petition for custody must be inside that envelope in my safe. The court docket was marked around the same time she showed up on my boat.

  This is all insane.

  I don’t want to open the envelope, though—why bother now? I know what’s inside. I don’t need to see more of her betrayal, her selfishness, in print.

  The divorce I accept. No questions. I don’t contest that.

  But custody? This could become one of the biggest battles of my life—because I’ll be fighting for my daughter.

  I
stuff my hands in my pockets and look at the sliver of the moon in the sky.

  “Well, I think this is a slam dunk case. You were a Navy SEAL with an impeccable record. You have more medals than God and were even invited to the White House to be honored. Hell, we’ll make the president a character witness if we have to.” She chuckles a little, probably trying to lighten the mood. “So I honestly feel really confident. But maybe we won’t even need to take it that far.”

  She’s hoping Cindy is anxious to get married and won’t want to delay the divorce much longer.

  I hail her a cab. She flicks her long black hair off her shoulder and smiles at me. She seems too young to be one of the most reputable attorneys in New York, but I did my due diligence and researched her last night. She’s the real deal.

  She reaches out and wraps a hand over my shoulder and looks me in the eyes. “We’re going to get your girl back.”

  And I believe her.

  I have to.

  I nod and close the door after she’s in the cab. My eyes follow the taxi before switching to the docks on my right—to Grace.

  I never heard back from her after her text last night, so seeing her approaching in jeans and a graphic tee—not her norm—throws me off guard. My body tenses at the mere sight of her, and I start toward her, closing the gap of a hundred yards or so.

  “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be at the docks at night.” My mind races to thoughts of her attacker, to my nightmare the other night.

  “I’m not stalking you, I swear.” She laughs a little, but it’s a nervous one. “I was out with Rachel. She’s my assistant. Well, more like my friend. But we were at a bar not too far away, and I thought maybe you’d be around. I know you were busy for dinner, but I was hoping that maybe…” She looks at the ground. “Stupid idea.”

  I tip her chin up. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  She swallows and is quiet for a moment. “I, uh, didn’t know we were seeing other people while we were having sex. I mean, it’s okay, but—”