Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2)

by Claudia Burgoa

Wow, I’m a great liar. Even I believed what I just said. In truth, I don’t eat guys like him for breakfast or have sex that often. The last guy I hooked up with was a few weeks ago. He was average at best. He wasn’t that memorable… my God, did I seriously sleep with Edward Bryant?

  Nyx, forget about that oopsie moment and focus on the big bad wolf in front of you.

  I’m no Little Red Riding Hood scared of his sharp teeth and big blue eyes, so of course I won’t back down. This guy can think that I have an active sex life just like him. I’m one of the best bullshitters in the legal business. I’ve never lost a case, and I’m not planning on losing this standoff with Nathaniel Chadwick. Best known as the hottest, most wanted, and unreachable playboy in the country.

  His so fucking-sure-of-himself grin takes over his handsome face. “So, you want to eat me?” he asks with a deep, calm voice.

  Well, yes, Nathaniel, I’d love it if we could eat each other. I could think of the many ways it could happen, including a perfect sixty-nine. I’d be happy to be the six to your nine—or to your ten if the rumors are correct.

  His dark blue eyes lined with long, thick lashes stare at me, trying to command me to just submit. With any other guy I might be willing. Not with him. My sister is somewhere in this penthouse having passionate, delicious, hot sex with his brother.

  Being with Nate seems a little depraved. But is it really?

  This is what happens when you change your routine, Nyx. You should be back home, in Colorado.

  Actually, more like at the office, working on my next case. Instead, I’m still in New York enjoying the company of a snuggly dog, his wicked owner, and a delicious glass of wine.

  I’m in the presence of the infamous Nathaniel Chadwick. The playboy everyone loves—and desires. The pictures of him on the internet don’t do him any justice. Tousled dark brown hair that I bet he combed with his hand after a shower. Handsome is a weak word to describe this man. He has the kind of face that stops everyone in their tracks. The olive color of his skin makes his blue eyes pop. Those piercing eyes could make anyone weak at the knees. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and I bet under that suit there’re a lot of defined muscles that I’d love to touch.

  It comes as no surprise that every woman in the world desires him. His proposal is tantalizing, but I have to pass. What would it be like to be touched by his big, strong hands? I can’t help but blush when I imagine his lips running down my body. I shiver as I think of his deep voice whispering dirty words as he thrusts himself inside me.

  In my experience, men fall into three categories, though there are plenty of subcategories. The one you fuck, the one you marry, and the one you friend zone. No, it’s not fuck, marry, or kill. But let’s be realistic. Friend-zoning a guy literally kills any chance to have sex with him—ever.

  Mr. Billionaire Playboy falls into the fuck category. I’d love to say, “Where is your playground and will you be providing the condoms?”

  The problem lies in my sister being madly in love with his brother. If I accept his open invitation and my sister ends up marrying Ford…this will become pretty awkward when our tryst is over.

  Seriously, what if he turns out to be a major asshole? He could be lousy in bed. There’s a saying about too much bark and no bite. Does that apply to him?

  “You’re overthinking,” he states. “My gut was right. You’re a good girl. You never skipped class, always obeyed your parents, and followed the rules. No, you actually enforce them, which is why you are a lawyer.”

  “Are you about to crack lawyer-y jokes?”

  He arches an eyebrow and crosses his corded arms. “Is that even a word? That’s a transgression against George and Charles Merriam. Is that allowed?”

  “Look at you, throwing some useless knowledge my way to impress me,” I retort. “Why would you think I’m a good girl? Maybe I like to dress classy and underneath I’m wearing a lace bodysuit, a bustier, and maybe a garter belt.”

  “That’d be a sweet treat. I’d love to unwrap you. I like my women naughty,” he says with a husky tone.

  “No doubt you do. Shouldn’t you be at a bar fetching a woman for the night?”

  He snickers “I’m more than what my bio says on Wikipedia or any other website you’ve been clicking through, sweetheart.”

  I gasp, narrow my gaze, and ask, “What? Were you spying on me?”

  He smirks “That’d be odd. No, that’s what I expect from… Let’s just say you’re predictable. You’re beautiful, but definitely not my type, and I apologize for coming on so strong.”

  “Reverse psychology, nice,” I say and sigh. “Does it work?”

  He blinks a couple of times and laughs. “Not today. I’m running out of lines. Cut the guy some slack.”

  “A few years back this could’ve been the beginning of a beautiful train wreck, but I’m too old for this.”

  He frowns. “I’d say you look twenty-five, but if you’re older than Persephone you should be around twenty-nine?”

  “I turn thirty this December,” I announce. “Why do you know Persy’s age?”

  “I have the bad habit of running a background check on everyone who gets too close to my brother,” he confides. “It’s nothing personal. Just a way to keep him safe.”

  “But not you?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m not some nerdy recluse. I’m more street smart, if that makes any sense. Which is why everyone who gets close to Ford has to sign an NDA.”

  “Like I’d let my sister sign an NDA,” I laugh.

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, he’s not going to ask her to sign one—or any of you for that matter. Apparently, this is fucking serious.” He presses his lips together and looks out to the horizon. His voice comes out so harsh that Brock moves away from my lap and onto his.

  “Irritating, isn’t it?” I joke. “People finding love and trusting each other.”

  “Listen, I’m happy for him,” he states, standing up and pacing around the terrace. “I know from experience that relationships fuck you for life.”

  I arch an eyebrow giving him my best inquisitive look and say, “Now we’re getting somewhere. What can you say about this dark past that makes you hate love?”

  He makes a huff or maybe a snicker sound and shakes his head. “What’s your story, Nyx? Any particular reason why you don’t have a significant other?”

  “Why are you assuming I’m single?”

  “The predictability factor,” he continues nitpicking me. “If you were in a relationship, you’d be on the phone with your boyfriend, or girlfriend, talking about how much you miss them and describing the breathtaking view. During the conversation, they’d promise you to take you to New York during the fall.”

  I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow. “Fall?”

  “The view from here is even better. The orange and red foliage is unique. If those two love birds are still together, you should come over,” he invites me. “Unless…your boyfriend is the one who brings you.”

  “You’re just generalizing and watching my reactions.” His mischievous eyes stare at me, waiting for my next move or my next statement. “I’m single because I spend most of my time working, and I’m an avid subscriber to Worst-Dates-R-Us.”

  He laughs, “What is that?”

  I’m sure a guy like him wouldn’t understand my life. He can pick and choose who he goes out with, and I bet none of the women he dates disappoint him. He has unlimited amounts of sex—good sex. The only way I’ve been getting off is with the help of the sex toys my sister recommends. Another perk of having Persy as a sister, she’s a sexologist and knows the best and latest available gadgets for couples, and for us spinsters.

  Not that I am one, but sometimes I feel like I’m going to die alone, and I don’t even have a cat. I don’t have time for a pet.

  “It’s an imaginary place that provides me with the worst dates that a human being can experience,” I say, sighing.

  “How bad can they be?”

&nbs
p; “Let me count the ways, Skippy,” I answer, showing him one finger. “There’s the one with the guy who brought me to his parents’ home and our dinner was leftovers. His father is now a client of mine.”

  He laughs. “Was he fifteen?”

  “No, almost forty. He lives in his parents’ basement,” I answer and then show him a second finger.

  “You get your dates at losers-are-us,” he concludes before I can tell him about my latest loser adventure.

  “Most likely,” I agree. “At least my sisters can say that they have steady relationships that don’t work out. Mine don’t go past the second or third date if I’m lucky.”

  “Nothing against your sisters, but maybe you’re the smartest of the three,” he says reassuringly.

  “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Mr. Chadwick.”

  “I don’t know you or your sisters, but here’s what I’m thinking,” he says with a serious voice. “Persy is a psychologist. She probably has to stay in the relationship at least until she can prove that she couldn’t salvage it. Call it determination, resolve, or plain stubbornness. I only know your younger sister by picture. Without more information I can’t guess why she has more long-lasting relationships than you. You are different. If you don’t see potential, you walk away because you don’t have time for nonsense.”

  “I…” I want to fight him, but he’s right, so I nod in agreement.

  “You know what you need?”

  “A loser radar,” I guess.

  “No, a guy like me,” he says haughtily. “You have a busy schedule, but I bet you can get away for a weekend. Guys like me know how to have a good time in and outside the bedroom. Just think about it. I can fly you wherever and whenever you want.”

  “Give it a rest,” I hear a male voice, and when I turn toward the penthouse, I spot Ford and Persy walking toward us. “What part of ‘stay the fuck away’ didn’t you understand?”

  “Oh great, two men about to show who has the bigger dick,” I mumble, standing up from the couch and stretching. “Such an innovative concept. If you guys don’t mind, I’m heading to my room.”

  “You okay?” Persy asks as I walk by her.

  “Not as great as you. That dreamy face tells me that you’ve been having a lot of naughty fun. Though, I have to ask, is everything okay with…?” I trail my gaze to Ford who is now talking in hushed voices with Nate.

  “Perfect,” she answers. “He just told me that if you need to leave for Denver earlier, he can fly you.”

  “I might take that invitation if you’re certain that you are okay,” I question, expecting her to blink if he’s keeping her hostage.

  “More than okay,” she reassures me. “Though, I’d rather you stay. There’s nothing better than having my favorite sister around. If you want, we can go around the city, do some touristy things. Ford is going to be working all week. We haven’t had sister time in forever.”

  “Sounds like we can be Thelma & Louise in the City,” I joke, giving her a hug. “I’m heading to bed, but let’s kick off the day tomorrow morning with a walk around the park. We can take Brock. He’s a great dog.”

  She scrunches her nose. “I’m not a dog person.”

  “You are. You just don’t know it,” I argue. “Just because one bit you as a kid… Time to move on and appreciate the puppies of the world.”

  “Goodnight, Nyxie.”

  “Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” I answer, and she glances at her man saying, “I’m sure he’ll be doing the…biting.”

  I sigh and wave at her. What would it be like to have those hazed eyes, hot boyfriend, and a promising future?

  Six

  Nate

  I can’t recall the last time I was in the same room with Ford working, and not just hanging out. For the past few years, we handle most of the business via text, phone calls, or video conferences. A month or so ago when he visited me in Seattle, he stayed home brooding and refused to work.

  This Persy affair might be beneficial not only to him, but the company. Time will tell though.

  “I miss this,” I tell him while I take a piece of nigiri, dip it in soy sauce, and put it in my mouth.

  “Don’t you eat sushi often?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. “You order it with almost every meal.”

  “No, idiot. Working like this,” I clarify. “We’ve gotten more done today than in the past couple of months.”

  He glances at me unamused. “No.”

  “I haven’t said anything,” I argue. “But you know we could launch the new software by January if we meet more often. I’m willing to fly to Denver too, if that’s what it takes to work with you in person. It’ll make my life easier. I understand that without you, LNCWare wouldn’t exist but…”

  He looks at me and lets out a loud breath. “Give me time to get used to it, okay?”

  “That’s all I am asking, that you open your horizons and start doing more for the company.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to also ask him for a break with his someday-to-be-sister-in-law. Fuck, I can’t believe that I’m saying that and accepting it. It’s pretty obvious that he’s in a serious relationship. I witnessed it last night. They are clearly a match made in… I’m not sure heaven is the right word.

  They are total opposites. I doubt they have anything in common, and yet, they fit perfectly together. In all thirty some years of my life I’ve never seen my brother in love. Am I still afraid that this will end up in tragedy? Of course. Just because I understand this is the real deal, it doesn’t mean that it’ll stay like this forever.

  Cynical? No, I like to call myself practical.

  Now his love story is blocking my chances to have Nyx A. Brassard. If Ford hadn’t interrupted last night, I could’ve convinced her to give me at least this weekend. What a fucking joke. I have a hot, smart, available woman sleeping under my roof, and I can’t have her. The obstacles are making her more desirable.

  “So…the sister?”

  “…is off limits,” he responds with a warning voice. “Who you want to hook up with is none of my business, but stay away from her. Listen, I’m not judging you. It’d be hypocritical of me. I was there a few months ago. Except, this is Persy’s sister who we are talking about. They are close, like you and me. It’ll be fucking awkward if you make a move and things go wrong. You could even break up my own relationship.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” I debate. “You’ll probably have a fight or some disagreement, but if she loves you…”

  He points at me, “I swear Nate, if you do something stupid...”

  I glare at him, waiting for him to threaten me. He’s been pissing me off since yesterday with his attitude.

  He exhales and says, “Please, I never ask you for anything.”

  “Really?” I give him a challenging glance. “I’ve been running this fucking company by myself because you can’t stand to deal with people. Not just in the company, but in your life. I won’t pursue her, but if it happens, it’s between Nyx and me. She seems old enough to take care of herself.”

  He shakes his head. “Let’s get back to work. You just pissed me off.”

  “Because it’s so hard, isn’t it sunshine?” I tease him, gathering the trash and tossing it in the can.

  “Why her? When you can have any other woman?” he asks.

  I freeze for a moment as I replay his unexpected question. Why her? Taking a deep breath, I step closer to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Park Avenue. There’s an inexplicable attraction between us. I want to get to know her—not only her body. She’s a challenge.

  None of those answers seem to be like something I want to share with my brother. At least, not yet.

  “She’s smart. She’s a career woman. And she’s gorgeous,” I explain. “She’s perfect.”

  “Perfect how?” His voice lost the edge and has a curious tone. “You can find one just like her here in New York.”

  I turn around. He’s still seated on the leather couch grimacing at m
e with a pinched expression.

  “Which is convenient because with her busy schedule and my busy life we can see each other once a month. No feelings, messy entanglements, or regrets,” I explain. “If either one of us doesn’t want to see the other again, no one will lose any sleep.”

  That’s a perfectly great explanation. It sounds like something I would do, but as I say the words I’m wondering if I mean them. Do I only want something superficial with her or…? The or kept me awake last night, and I’ve been thinking of her all day long. The breathless moments I shared with her weren’t enough. I want to spend more time with her. At the same time, I know there’s no point in pursuing this…

  This attraction that has my heart throbbing just with the memory of her raspy voice and her sweet scent.

  He shakes his head. “And I thought I was fucked up,” he states.

  “I’m also practical,” I state, but really, deep down, not even I believe that Nyx and I could keep things casual.

  Taking a breath, he raises from his seat and says, “We have a meeting in the conference room. Do whatever the fuck you want. I hope Nyx is smart enough to stay away.”

  Ford leaves the office around six. I stay until eight, and when I arrive home, Nyx is on the terrace with Brock.

  “Good evening, Nyx,” I greet her. “Why are you here and not bar hopping?”

  She turns around and smiles at me when she sees me. Her dark wavy hair is down, framing her gorgeous face. She tucks a strand behind her ear before saying, “You’re confusing me with someone else.”

  “No, that’s called sarcasm,” I state, taking off my suit jacket. “Would you like some wine tonight?”

  “I’m not supposed to fraternize with you,” she answers.

  I smirk, pull a chair from the dining table I have on the terrace, and drag it close to where she sits. I set it down, the back of it facing her and mount the chair. “This has to be good. What did Ford say about me?”

  “It was my sister,” she corrects me. “She’s concerned that you’re too emotionally immature to sustain a romantic relationship, and if you hurt me it’ll be awkward.”