by Jenn Hype
“Excuse me?” I put a hand on hip and swerved my neck, all sassy-girl like.
“This is ridiculous! This whole date has been horrible, and now you ruin my clothes?”
“They aren’t ruined, it’s just Coke. It’ll wash out. You don’t have to-“
“Just shut up,” Alex practically snarled, all up in my face. The mouth I'd kissed only a minute ago now shot spittle at me. Later, when I reflected back over the date while lying in bed, I'd be totally grossed out by that. Right that second, though, all I could process was the sheer rage in his eyes.
Before I could respond, Liam’s hard body pressed up against mine. One long, tantalizingly muscular arm shot over my shoulder and Liam’s big hand landed squarely on Alex’s chest. He shoved hard enough for Alex to stumble backwards into the people sitting behind him.
Several people in the crowd started to shout for us to knock it off and get out of the way. I glanced up and saw two security men booking it in our direction.
“Liam, it’s fine,” I said to his back. He’d somehow managed to wiggle his way around me, even in the tight confines of the narrow rows of seats, wedging himself between me and my crappy date.
“Like hell it is!”
I tugged on the sleeve of his Yankees henley - which, by the way, fit him so perfectly it was practically sinful for him to be wearing it in public. Like a second skin it showed off every line and ridge of muscle on his body. And the tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves that'd been pushed halfway to his elbows? Lawd, help me.
I tugged again, harder this time. He shifted until his body faced me, but he kept his eyes trained on Alex. All that machismo he'd been directing at me was gone. In fact, he looked like he might crap his pants. Apparently he only felt big and bad when he was trying to intimidate a woman. Pit him up against someone as tall and fit as Liam and he tucked his dick between his legs and cowered.
It was kind of hot, seeing Liam going all alpha male and forcing another man to submit.
I put a pin in that one. I'd call upon that particular turn-on later. With the security guards nearing and Liam still engaged in a game of chicken with Alex, my priorities were deescalating the scene before the two Neanderthals got me banned from Yankee Stadium.
Liam's chest heaved up and down, every muscle in his body taut. Like a feral cat ready to pounce on its prey. Nothing I said was having any effect, so I put my hand on his cheek and gently pulled until he finally stopped trying to murder Alex with his eyes and looked at me. His face softened as soon as our eyes met and I saw the worry as he searched my face for injuries even though he knew damn well Alex hadn’t touched me.
“I’m fine. It’s fine.”
He stared at me a few seconds longer before his shoulders relaxed.
“Is there a problem here?” A deep voice barked from just behind me. Some of the tension crept back into Liam’s shoulders when he looked away from me and at who I assumed were the security guards.
“This man nearly assaulted this woman. Will you please escort him from the premises?”
“Liam let’s just go,” Krista whined. It was my turn to try and murder someone through sheer force of will. I must have pulled it off a little because she actually took a tentative step away from us.
Alex argued with the security guards for a few minutes before they eventually dragged him away.
“Liam,” Krista moaned louder. He hadn't looked at her once since all hell broke loose.
And it wasn’t until Liam turned his head enough for his lips to graze the palm of my hand that I realized I was still cupping his cheek. I yanked my hand away like it’d been burned. And honestly, it really felt like it had. My skin tingled, my fingertips itching to touch him again. Toxic, is what it was. Everything about him was toxic to me. His skin, his scent, his general existence. That saying punch-drunk? That was me when it came to Liam. But I’d rather take a series of actual blows to the head than have to endure whatever random and intense effect Liam always had on me.
I had a feeling it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much.
CHAPTER TWO
Liam
Complete and total shitshow. Where the hell was Clara finding these guys?
Not to brag, but I'd been ruining Clara's dates for months and I was getting pretty good at it. Anymore it seemed my mere presence was enough to wreck her nights.
It all started innocently, I swear. I know Clara doesn't believe that, but it's true.
I didn't seek her out and intentionally wreak havoc on her date. Yes, I'd been irritated about the constant teasing and ribbing from the guys over the first time I'd met her, but I could handle that. And it wasn't her fault. I deserved it, even. After all the pranks and practical jokes I'd pulled on everyone at work? Yeah, I had it coming to me. Still, none of that could be blamed on Clara.
Nothing but coincidence had put me in the same place at the same time as Clara on a date. I went over to say hi. Ya know, being polite and all. I mean, she's my boss's sister. Even if I did hold some sort of petty grudge, I would still be nice.
Her date, however, did not appreciate the interruption. Dick was just intimidated by me and I was screwing with his mojo. That's not me bragging, simply stating a fact. I worked hard for my body and knew I'd been given the gift of great bone structure. Toss in my thick hair and charming smile, and I was damn near lethal to women everywhere.
Okay. Maybe that was a little too cocky. Whatever.
Anyway, this bowtie-wearing douche nugget got all bent out of shape. Right before my eyes, I watched this guy deteriorate. His face got all red, a line of sweat broke out on his forehead and his tiny hands started shaking. Guy seriously had the smallest hands I'd ever seen. Like, freak show small.
Long story short, Clara wound up having a glass of water thrown in her face when her diva of a date got all pissy and made a scene. The whole thing was hysterical. To an outsider. To Clara? Not so much. And ohhh man, did she get pissed when I fell over laughing.
I tried to apologize, but talking proved difficult when I couldn't even stop laughing long enough to take a breath. She stormed off and since then has refused to hear my side of the story. Things just escalated from there.
Every time we had to be around each other for a group function, we'd wind up bickering or in an all-out shouting match. Didn't matter how insulting or rude she was, either. Everyone always took her side.
"Oh, Clara is so sweet. She'd never hurt a fly."
"If Clara doesn't like you then you must have done something horrible. Clara is nice to everyone."
All bullshit. She had everyone snowed. Everyone except me.
Sure, Clara looked innocent. Between her small frame, porcelain skin and overly feminine clothes, she could pass for a 1950s housewife. All she'd have to do is add an apron over her dresses. Maybe put a whisk in her hand.
People talked to and about her like she was fragile. Delicate. A goddamn angel who could do no wrong.
False.
I saw her from an entirely different perspective.
Those ruby red lips haunted me in my sleep. Oh, the mental images I've had of those lips doing very not-innocent things. That plump and perfect, bow-shaped mouth of hers starred in the majority of my fantasies these days.
And don't even get me started on her body.
Perky breasts big enough to fill my hands, tiny waist and hips that flared so perfectly she could give Jessica Rabbit a run for her money. Those platformed heels she wore made her legs go on for days. Impressive for such a tiny woman.
I suppose most could say I had a type, and that type was not Clara Jade. Or it didn't used to be. These days? These days I couldn't get it up for anyone. If it weren't for the constant hard-on whenever she was around, I might think my dick was broken.
Needless to say, Clara was bad news for me. I could keep my sexual attraction in check when she was at a distance. She pushed those limits for me today. Her soft hand on my cheek, our faces only millimeters apart, her sweet scent surrounding me. If we hadn't bee
n surrounded by thousands of people, I likely would have done something highly regrettable.
I needed a distraction. Something to get my mind off that small, intense moment where time stood still and the rest of the world faded away.
Enter Malcolm. Best co-conspirator and wingman a guy could ask for.
"You look like shit," the aforementioned best friend said as way of greeting.
"Hello to you, too, asshole."
Sliding onto the stool next to him, I took a sip of the beer waiting for me. He had to have just ordered it because it was still cold.
"I take it you didn't have a great time at the game?"
Mal hid his smirk behind his glass but his damn eyes twinkled, giving him away.
"Let's just say if CJ were the one sabotaging all her dates, tonight's asshole would have left with a couple black eyes."
He winced. "Damn. That bad?"
I took another long swig of my beer before answering. "Complete jackass. Called her a bitch."
"And you let that fucker walk away?" He shouted, slamming his glass down onto the counter. The bartender immediately rushed over, mopping up the beer that'd spilled over the rim of the glass. Mal mumbled an apology and stuffed a ten in the tip jar.
"If he'd put his hands on her, the asshole would have left on a stretcher or in cuffs."
Malcolm grunted his agreement.
Taking our drinks with us, we both slid off the stool and headed towards the pool tables in the back of the hole-in-the-wall bar we loved to frequent. Most of the patrons were old regulars. We didn't prowl here. We couldn't if we wanted to, unless we were trying to bag cougars surrounded by clouds of cigarette smoke.
Malcolm racked the balls while I put chalk on the end of the worn-down cue tip. We'd played so many games of pool over the past year we could probably play with our eyes closed. If we got drunk enough we'd get bored and start doing crazy trick shots until the owner kicked us out.
"So are you still denying your thing for Clara or are you ready to talk about it?"
I groaned and looked heavenward. He asked me this every other day, at least.
"You've gotta let that go, man. How many times do I have to explain it to you?"
He shook his head and sunk a stripe in the corner pocket. "I really can't tell if you're in serious denial or are just incredibly stupid."
He missed his next shot by a hair and I stepped up to line my stick with the cue ball. With little effort I nailed a split shot and sunk two solids.
The problem with convincing Malcolm was that my reasons for ruining Clara's dates was confidential. I'd made a promise to my boss and though I trusted Mal with my life, I couldn't risk CJ finding out I'd told someone. His trust in me mattered. More than was probably normal or reasonable. More on that later.
Clara hadn't wasted time in telling everyone who would listen that I'd ruined her date. CJ approached me immediately. I'd expected him to unleash on me. It was no secret CJ went overboard when it came to his sisters. Just looking at them funny could set him off. So when instead of firing my ass, or at the very least, screaming at me, he offered me a deal instead? I almost fell out of my chair in shock.
Being the extremely overprotective brother he was, he didn't like the idea of Clara constantly going on blind dates with guys she met online. If he had it his way, he'd vet the guys before she ever responded to their messages. Since meeting his fiancée, Blake, his overbearing brotherly ways had been scaled back a ton, though. My accidental sabotage gave him the idea to have me ruin Clara's dates under the guise of it being payback.
My first instinct was to say no. It sounded like some drama I definitely didn't want to get caught up in. My pranking and overall juvenile ways were only for fun. Full out espionage? The whole idea just made me uneasy for a lot of reasons.
One - If and when Clara found out, I'd suffer the wrath of both Jade sisters, Blake and Paige. And probably Mama Rose. Those five women were scarier than most insurgents I faced overseas. Not an exaggeration. They could make my life miserable, and wouldn't hesitate to do so, if they knew I'd participated in a scheme of any sort against one of them.
Two - If and when this all backfired, would it affect my job? My dad was the king of assholes and my upbringing had led to my lack of respect for authority figures. The military straightened me out a little, but it wasn't until CJ that I finally found a man I admired enough to care about what he thought of me. CJ was a good man, through and through. His opinion mattered. Also, he never got on me about my shenanigans. That kind of freedom in the workplace was priceless. Probably helped that Malcolm was always in on it and him and CJ went way back.
Three - Perhaps the most worrisome of my concerns - my attraction to Clara. It wasn't that I couldn't control myself around her. I had no shortage of beautiful woman available to warm my bed, but flirting just came naturally for me, even if the attraction wasn't intense. Forcing myself to constantly be near her on a regular basis? That might just test the limits of my self-restraint.
However, even with all those concerns, I couldn't deny how badly I wanted to say yes. It was the first time CJ had come to me directly about a job. Granted, it was more a favor than an assignment and I wasn't getting paid for it and my only qualification was my impressive level of immaturity despite being a grown man.
In the end, I agreed. Obviously. Since here we are months later and I'm still at it.
CJ had endless resources at his disposal for spying on Clara and he had no qualms with using them. Felt a little icky to me, but it wasn't my place to judge. He did all the recon on where she'd be and when. All I had to do was show up and work my magic.
I'll admit, the first couple times, I left feeling guilty. Was I getting in the way of someone just trying to find love? Would my constant interference keep Clara from finding her happily ever after? I didn't believe in that shit for myself, but it could happen to someone else.
My guilt started to wane once I started paying better attention to the men she was meeting. They were all douche bags who definitely didn't deserve someone as amazing as Clara. Beauty aside, I'd never met someone who cared so much about other people. There didn't seem to be anything Clara wouldn't do to make someone else happy. The thing is, even nice guys will take advantage of someone like that. So the assholes she kept going on dates with? You can fill in the blank.
Everyone understandably assumed my 'picking on' Clara was some sort of adult version of the boy who tugs on the ponytail of the girl he likes in grade school to get her attention. Since I couldn't outright refute their claims without breaking my promise to CJ, deflection and denial became my go-to responses. So far I'd managed to avoid outright lying. It was getting harder, though. Especially since their accusations were starting to carry some truth.
No matter how much I wanted her, though, I'd never act on it. Tonight's slip up could never happen again. Clara was the kind of girl you married, and she made it no secret that she was looking for long-term. Just the idea of a relationship, no matter the length, gave me hives. In my whole life I'd only ever had one girlfriend and that went to shit. My already cynical take on monogamy tanked when that relationship went down in flames. Never again.
CHAPTER THREE
Clara
Things I’ve learned since graduating college: I suck at adulting, and being an adult sucks.
Get your own place, I said. You’ll be much happier being independent, I told myself.
As soon as the fashion line I started with my best friend from college, Paige Dawson, took off I began saving for my own place. Not only did we almost immediately start making enough profit to cover costs, but we were able to give ourselves nice paychecks. Since graduating I'd been staying at my sister Josi's place. She wasn't home half the time, so most days it felt like I lived alone. Which led me to believe actually living alone would be the same.
Wrong.
Jo and her OCD tendencies had kept me in check more than I realized. With her not charging me rent, I felt obligated to keep the place cle
an.
I never should have moved out. Not only would my place not be a disaster, but I’d have clean underwear and food in the fridge.
Growing up the baby of the family meant getting away with almost anything and rarely having to deal with chores. I had it made in the summer shade. If only I'd known I actually needed those skills for later in life. I had no idea how to even wash dishes. How was I going to land a husband with my complete lack of domesticity?
Like knowing how to clean would be enough to make up for all your other shortcomings...
“Shut up, self,” I grumbled while digging through my drawers for the tenth time. As if clean panties would just magically appear if I looked hard enough.
"Aha!" I cheered when I found one lone pair of underwear in the laundry basket in my closet. First thing in the morning I'd have to trek to the laundromat to get my laundry caught up. Insert miserable groan here.
There were few things in life I hated more than doing laundry. Spending all that time getting everything clean, folded, ironed, hung up, only to mess it all up again? Same thing with cleaning. How could anyone find satisfaction in cleaning anything? Seconds later it's dirty again. So infuriating. How is it possible to enjoy a task that's never fully completed?
If fashion didn't work out for me, I'd obviously not be looking for any employment as a maid.
The girls and I were having a night out, so I flipped through my dress selection. I had clothes that weren't dresses, but I didn't wear them often. Dresses just made me feel feminine and fun. Since I made the majority of my own clothes, everything hugged my curves perfectly.
Eventually I landed on one of my favorites - a yellow polka dot halter top dress with a pleated skirt that fanned out when I spun in circles. I had sexier dresses, for sure, but I wasn't in the mood. Tonight wasn't about finding a guy. I just wanted to enjoy my time with the girls and push the stress of my love life to the farthest spot in my mind.
Lately the dating scene has been worse than normal. Even if Liam weren't constantly interfering, I wouldn't be scoring any second dates. It seemed I had a knack for picking out assholes. Though, in my defense, they were always gentleman online or on the phone prior to our date. It wasn't until they had me sitting across from them that their true colors showed. I suppose I should be thankful they didn't make me wait until the second or third date before figuring that part out.
