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

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Is the new couple being disgustingly sweet?” I lift my gaze to take a good look at Nate.

  Today he’s wearing a short sleeve navy blue t-shirt, a pair of washed jeans, and his tousled hair looks shorter than it was last week. He looks irresistible. It’s such a shame that I have to ignore him. It’s like staring at the most decadent dessert in the world, but he’s off limits.

  “Ford and your sister are too…irritating,” he agrees, showing me the gifts he’s bearing. “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah,” I say, standing up and leading Brock into the house.

  “Nice place,” Nate says, as he follows me. “Cozy.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that you’re calling my house small?”

  “It’s the right size for you,” he counteracts. “I like the decorations. They are elegant and yet, you have a few antiques and artifacts around. You have a classy style.”

  “Whenever you decide to redecorate your places let me know, I charge by the hour though,” I joke.

  He smirks and shakes his head. “Don’t tempt me. I might use that as an excuse to spend more time with you. I have several places, including a villa in Portugal.”

  Does he even enjoy everything he owns?

  “You could’ve told me you were in town,” I say, changing the subject.

  “And wait for you to find an excuse not to invite me for dinner?” He shakes his head and starts picking up the frames I have on top of the fireplace. “So, you and Persy look like your mom and Eros and the youngest Brassard look like your father. Interesting,” he states.

  While he’s studying each picture I have, I set the bags on the counter and start taking the food containers out from one and the wine from the second.

  “Do you have a bowl I can use for water?” he asks, pointing at Brock.

  “Yes, they are in the top cupboard. Check the one next to the refrigerator,” I suggest while searching for the wine opener. “Do you need me to order some food from the pet store for him? They might be able to deliver it tomorrow morning.”

  “He has plenty at Ford’s place, but thank you for offering,” he answers while filling the bowl with tap water.

  “Is that where you’re staying?” I ask, opening the take-out containers with sushi, fried rice, and a variety of Chinese food he brought. “Are you planning on feeding an entire army?”

  “No, Eros mentioned your favorites while I was ordering and I chose a few from them,” he replies, giving me that sly grin of his that threatens to melt my panties. “You might think my offer is off the table, but it’s there for you to grab it and…enjoy it.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “You’re cute.”

  He stares at me with disbelief and points at Brock. “He’s cute. I’m manly.”

  “You can be whatever you want, Nate.” I stand on my tiptoes to reach for the wine glasses. I feel his hand searing my skin as he touches my waist. My stomach twists and a lustful heat spreads from my head all the way down to my toes.

  When I move my gaze to where Nate towers over me, I meet his bright blue eyes looking down at me filled with desire. His mouth is open as he moves his gaze down to my body. The energy between us is palpable. My heart beats faster and harder. I want to throw caution to the wind and touch him, taste him, take what he’s offering.

  That’s not me though.

  Without saying a word, I break our connection. Taking a step back, I walk away from what could’ve been a big mistake.

  “I’ll get that for you,” he stares at me intently. His eyes moving slowly from my face and down my chest. “You might want to change if you want me to behave. The tiny see-through top you’re wearing is giving me a lot of ideas that you might enjoy but…we can’t because I need you to be sure of what I’m offering.”

  I look down and my face is on fire because of the embarrassment. He’s getting a good look at my bare chest.

  “Damn it. I wasn’t expecting company,” I complain, heading to my room to grab a bra. I also put on a sweatshirt for the lack of chastity belts. Not that I need one. I can control my hormones.

  “Well, this is a little extreme, isn’t it? Afraid I’ll take advantage of you?” he jokes, winking at me as I walk into the kitchen.

  He has everything set up on the table. He even poured wine in the glasses.

  “It’s taking me a lot of restraint not to make a pass. I promised myself not to pressure you,” he says as we take our seats.

  “The answer is still no. We won’t become a thing,” I insist, wanting to cover my chest because he keeps looking at it even though I’m wearing a bulky sweatshirt. “Plus, I’m sure you like someone with bigger boobs.”

  “I’m not planning on engaging in this conversation. That has trouble written all over it,” he concludes, splitting his wooden chopsticks and reaching for a piece of sushi. “What is it that you do on Fridays when you’re not with Persephone?”

  “Work?” I answer, but it comes out more like a question. “I should still be at the office. Honestly, I left because you called, but I have a ton of things to do.”

  “Tell me more about what you do,” he says.

  As we eat, I tell him about my boss and what she usually does when I ask for personal time off. He listens and asks me about my current cases. I brief him on what I can say.

  “Why law school and not something different?”

  “I’m good at arguing with others, finding loopholes, and it pays well,” I reply, hoping I don’t sound shallow. He wouldn’t understand what it was like for me to not have a home or stability while I was growing up.

  Yes, we lived in a big adventure, but I worried most days that we wouldn’t have a place to live or food on the table. That’s the perception my parents gave me while we were growing up.

  “What would you be doing if your brother wasn’t a genius?” I question, not wanting to tell him about the traumas I carried during my childhood. They don’t seem valid anymore, but for a child, it was different.

  He looks at me and smiles. “I’ve always been good at numbers and convincing people to do things. Probably marketing or something in finance. I could’ve accepted being part of a reality show.”

  “Like Survivor or any of those contest shows?” I ask, intrigued.

  “No, like Man vs. Wild. When I was seventeen, one of my late grandfather’s friends who was still a producer back then, wanted to do a show with a young adult who could go around the world living in extreme conditions. They ended up signing an ex-military with more skills than I had—he looked young and they never mentioned his background or age while the show aired. I was bummed when I realized I was out of the running. I was so excited about living in places like the Amazon with nothing but a knife and a bottle of water…and, well, the camera crew.”

  I stare at him with wide eyes, speechless.

  “I know what you’re thinking, ‘This guy is crazy.’” He shakes his head. “Even though my father has money, Ford and I had to be resourceful while growing up. When I broke the rules, he punished us by sending us to work with a landscaping crew. There were times when he sent me to a farm down in San Diego where I had to help with the crops or the animals. Other times I joined a construction company where I helped remodel and build new houses. It’s as if he had us do community service for fucking up.”

  “So, you thought you had the elements to survive in the wilderness,” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Hey, I was seventeen. Boys think they are invincible at that age,” he concludes. “I do like my extreme sports. By the way, Eros told me you were joining us tomorrow.”

  Oh boy, my brother just found himself a best friend. We’re not losing Persy, we’re gaining two guys who are just as annoying as my brother.

  Shaking my head, I say, “I’d rather not do it. What if something happens to the equipment?”

  “Trust me, I’ll make sure everything is secure,” he says. “I’m sure you don’t want me to say it, but you need a little adventure in your life.”

  �
��And you’re here to provide it?” I chuckle, taking a piece of California roll to have an excuse to eat the ginger. I love pickled ginger, though I’m not a fan of raw fish.

  “If you allow it, I’ll teach you how to live a little. Maybe I can learn how to… What is it that you do?” He snaps his fingers, pretending he’s thinking.

  “Don’t call me boring or you’ll be wearing these chopsticks up your ass,” I warn him.

  “Hmm, we found your hard limit. The word boring. Would you like to tell us more about it?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Hey, if we’re going to be friends, the least you could do is tell me what I said wrong.”

  I explain to him about Calliope. My baby sister and the bane of my existence. How our parents let her get away with everything. They didn’t discipline her, and she’s a brat. The way she refers to me and our last fight.

  “So, you don’t know where she’s at?” he concludes when I finish.

  I shake my head, reaching for one of the several fortune cookies he brought.

  “If you want, I have someone who could find her. At least you’ll know if she’s safe,” he offers. “It’s just so you can have some peace of mind,” he explains, pouring more wine for both of us.

  Tonight turns out to be more relaxing than I thought. I reach for my glass of wine, take a sip and wonder if I should accept his offer. My parents are worried about Callie too.

  “You think we’re a lot different, but we’re not. I understand you. Family comes first, and we protect our own,” he continues. “Even when you’re upset because she treated you like shit, there’s this need to protect her ingrained in your brain. We can at least figure out what she’s up to so you can have one less thing to worry about.”

  “I don’t want to like you,” I warn him.

  He laughs and takes my fortune, reading it out loud, “A lifetime of happiness lies ahead of you.”

  Nate waves the small paper and says, “This could be us.”

  I smirk and put a cookie in front of him. “Let’s see what the cookie has to say about your future.”

  He rolls his eyes, unwraps it and breaks it, handing me the small paper while he takes a bite of the crispy cookie.

  “Love is like sweet medicine, good to the last drop.”

  I read it out loud, and he says, “Do you know that fortune cookies are not a tradition in China? There was a big debate back in the eighties about where and who served them first. Rumor has it that it was in fact a Japanese immigrant in the early nineteenth century. They baked them without the fortunes. That came a few years later somewhere in San Francisco.”

  “Subtle change of subject,” I state. “Also, a pretty random fact.”

  “That’s me, I store useless information,” he concludes and checks his watch. “It’s time for me to leave. I’ll pick you up tomorrow so we can go for breakfast.”

  “Eros told me he’ll—”

  “Before you protest, remember that Ford’s place is close by,” he interrupts me as he starts gathering the trash while I put away the leftovers. “It makes sense that I’m the one picking you up. Your brother mentioned that we could leave Brock with your parents. As you already know, he likes company.”

  As much as I want to disagree with his suggestion, he’s right. Driving in separate cars doesn’t make sense, and this is for Brock’s gain, not mine.

  “Okay,” I agree and remind him, “We’re only friends.”

  “Are you saying that for your benefit or mine?” He throws a charming grin my way. “Kidding. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  I narrow my gaze, not knowing if he quoted a movie or said that casually so I answer with, “You talking to me?”

  He winks at me. “You’re my people, Nyx. Other than Ford, no one answers me with another movie quote. I hate to leave, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After his departure, I feel like the end of my day wasn’t as bad as I thought. It actually changed my perception of the daunting week and my mood.

  Nine

  Nate

  Around seven in the morning, I arrive at Nyx’s house.

  “Stay. I’m just going to get Nyx,” I order Brock.

  He pants and wags his tail excitedly. I’ve yet to understand how it is that he connected with Nyx in less than a week. He’s a friendly guy with everyone who crosses his path. With her…he simply adores her. If I allowed it, he’d pack his toys, bowl, and blanket and move in with Nyx on a whim.

  As I’m about to ring the doorbell, a voice comes from the camera, “I’ll be out in a moment,” Nyx says.

  I don’t answer back, unsure if she can hear me, but I stay by the door. A couple of minutes later, she steps outside her house, wearing a sweatshirt from Duke University, light washed skinny jeans, and a pair of hiking boots. Instead of having her hair up in her trademark bun, she’s wearing it in a ponytail. I like it better when it’s down past her shoulders and her shoulders are bare.

  “Morning, sunshine,” she greets me, handing me one of the traveling mugs she’s holding before shutting the door and locking it. “Coffee, black like your soul, but with a few drops of rose syrup.”

  “Hey, you look great,” I observe, taking a sip of my coffee which tastes good but has a sweet after taste. “You tainted my coffee.”

  “No, I added some TLC,” she corrects me, kissing my cheek. “Thank you for picking me up.”

  My gaze trails behind her as I touch my cheek which burns after the contact from her lips. It’s a friendly kiss. A soft caress. And it leaves me breathless.

  What is it about this woman that pulls me toward her?

  Don’t get me wrong. She’s stunning, smart, and witty, but what I feel for her is more than the simple attraction I could have for a woman. It’s a lot more than just liking her pretty face. I want to figure it out, but also run away fast. Things will never go beyond the allure. All I can offer her is my company and good sex. I don’t have anything to give, and I bet she deserves the world.

  I glance at her again and I feel it, the magic swirling between us. It’d be a crime letting it go to waste. I can just feel the sparks flying between us just with one kiss. Her and me in bed…we’d ignite like two supernovas colliding.

  Should I let it go to waste?

  Magic is meaningless. It doesn’t last long, and you can ruin the best thing that’s happened to Ford.

  Stop wondering how she looks naked and think of something unsexy, like—

  “Is everything okay?” she asks, cocking her head to the side and biting her lip. “You seemed concerned or maybe… Trouble at work? I could help if you like.”

  And now I want to suck on her bottom lip. Kiss her, running my mouth all over her perfect body.

  Stop fucking around, Nathaniel!

  I simply smile at her and say, “We’re in a good mood today.”

  I open the passenger door for her, letting every emotion that’s awakening inside of me go back to hibernation. Reciting the alphabet, thinking about my appointments for next week, and…everything I think of still makes me want her.

  “Maybe I’m drunk since we’re going ziplining,” she jokes, turning her body to pet Brock. “He has a car seat?”

  “Yes, it helps him stay in place. It’s hard to drive with him when he’s jumping from one seat to the other,” I explain as I enter the address Eros sent me last night in the navigation app.

  “I could tell you how to get to my parents’ place without that thing,” she says with annoyance.

  “Sure, but can you warn me about accidents, roadblocks, or police vehicles?” I question making sure my phone is connected to the car.

  She grunts, “You are one of those people who drives above the speed limit, aren’t you?”

  “I obey to the best of my ability,” I answer innocently, and she laughs. When I reach a stoplight, I turn my attention to her, and I notice her eyes are scanning me and then Brock. “Are you trying to find any similarities between us?”

  “No, just wonderin
g why you have a Wheaten Terrier, and not a Rottweiler, German Shepherd, or Golden Retriever. He seems…I don’t know, like a family dog,” she explains, switching her attention toward her phone.

  “He is part of my family,” I inform her.

  As the light turns green, I push the gas pedal and tell her a little about how Brock came to become part of my family. “The breed wasn’t a choice. It’s more like we were introduced while I was visiting a friend, and we hit it off.”

  She laughs. “Like a puppy blind date?”

  “It’s a complicated story that I can sum up with, I know someone who fosters dogs. They introduced me to this guy. He was a ten-month-old pup. We hit it off. I needed a roommate, and he was looking for a place to stay. We just agreed to live together. You can’t say no to that face.”

  “That’s an adorable way to put it. You can try to deny it as much as you want, but you’re cute,” she says with a mocking voice.

  “Hear that, boy? You are cute.”

  She laughs. “So how old is he?”

  “Three, why?”

  “He makes me want to have a dog,” she answers. “I researched dogs last night, and it’s not that simple to just go and get one. According to the tests I took online, I need a dog who doesn’t need much exercise because I don’t have time for him.”

  “Start your own law firm. You’ll be able to bring your dog to work and lower your stress levels,” I insist, and I’m tempted to offer her a contract with me. She could become one of my legal consultants. There are so many things she could do with her degree, her experience, and her determination. The few times I’ve dealt with her during legal negotiations, she’s left me impressed.

  “It takes a lot of money to set up a firm. Where am I supposed to find clients?” she asks, a tad flustered. “I’m still paying for my student loans, there’s the house, the car… You wouldn’t understand.”

  “You might be surprised,” I argue. “Did I live a comfortable childhood? Yes, but I also worked my ass off because I always got in trouble. Dad made us pay for everything we broke.”