by Inara Scott
It had occurred to him, far too late, that he should have picked somewhere more casual. Of course, he was fully expecting to pick up the tab—for everyone, if necessary, to overcome any objections—so he wasn’t worried about the price. And the Aspen was their usual hangout, so there would have been questions if he’d wanted to change. Still, he didn’t like the idea that he’d picked a spot where Tess wouldn’t feel comfortable.
Looking at it clinically, the Aspen did have an upscale, trendy vibe that wasn’t Tess’s natural habitat. On the far wall, a long slab of polished oak made up the bar, while the back held restaurant tables made from recovered barn wood and hairpin iron legs, each set with a flickering candle and a sprig of some kind of greenery. In front, a mix of high-end industrial-style stools flanked tall bar tables. There were three bartenders, kept busy by a buzzing crowd that had turned out for the Aspen’s famous signature cocktails. The bar hadn’t slowed down since the day it opened, a fact that Mason noticed with no small amount of pleasure, since the owner and head chef was one of his old high school football teammates.
Still, she was coming, and the mere thought of her was enough to fill him with heat. How did she do it? This week had been both awful and wonderful at the same time. He’d never felt so comfortable with a woman before—never felt so himself. Yet at the same time, it had been a test on an epic scale. Tess did things to him that no other woman had. When he was with her all he could think about the way her hair fell over her face, the curve of her waist in his hand, and the soft sound she made when he kissed her. And when he touched her?
Suffice to say, it wasn’t easy to walk away. Not without a long, cold shower.
And the oddest part was, as much as he’d like the night to end with them finishing what they’d started in his kitchen, he had no desire to rush her into anything. Even if that meant a lot of cold showers in his future, the last thing he wanted was for her to regret it when they finally did get together.
He could wait. It was okay.
No, it was more than okay. It was exhilarating. What other woman had left him feeling this way? Who else challenged him like she did? Saw through his bullshit? Made him want to be better than he was?
He glanced between Nate and Luke, who were talking about the meeting they’d had earlier that day, and was shocked at how disconnected he was from it all. He used to talk shop all the time. He and Nate could argue for hours about their latest business prospects. But now? Now he felt removed. Distant.
The opposite of how he felt about Tess.
Nate caught his glance for a moment, a question in the depths of his eyes. Mason ignored it. What was he supposed to say? Something wasn’t right with his job, but what, exactly, he didn’t know.
Granted, the incident at the dog park had shaken him, but it was bigger than that. Whatever was happening had been building for some time. He should have told Nate and Connor that he’d wanted to walk away from the fuel cell deal weeks ago—that was on him. But then again, when he had tried to say something, Nate had steamrolled right over him. Even if he hadn’t had anything specific to point to, when had that ever stopped them before? How many times had Connor suggested dropping a deal because something about the tech “felt funny” to him? And had he ever pushed back when Nate said he was willing to let a deal die because he didn’t like the way the other side negotiated?
In the past, they’d always trusted each other’s instincts. But now, he wasn’t so sure. On Tuesday, when he’d informed them that he’d told Elijah the deal was off, they’d clearly been frustrated that he’d acted without clearing it with them, even though the reason he’d done it had been so clear. And he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Worst of all was the nagging feeling that they were simply reflecting him—that they would only trust him if he trusted himself.
He was so busy wrestling with this sudden, unwelcomed thought that he almost didn’t notice when a dark-haired hourglass of a woman walked in, her curves set off perfectly by an emerald slip of a dress. She was flanked on one side by a striking blonde in a black mini dress, who paused at the entrance of the club to study the crowd like a queen surveying her subjects.
“Incoming ballistic, five o’clock,” Luke murmured, taking a sip of his Aspen old-fashioned.
“Oh lovely,” Rafe said appreciatively. “A duet. I’ll take the snuggly brunette. You can have the blonde. She looks too fierce for me.”
“Snuggly?” Connor cocked his head to study them more clearly. “Is that what you call that?”
“Snuggly works, but I’m taking the brunette,” Luke said. “That blonde would eat me for dinner. Nate, what about you—” He assessed Nate’s glower. “Never mind. You’re in a mood. Forget I mentioned it.”
“You losers couldn’t handle either of those two,” Zoe said, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Though I’d like to see Nate give that blonde a try.”
Nate turned around to look at the same time that he took a sip of his drink and choked at the sight. “You idiots, that’s Cecilia Kerr. She eats everyone for dinner.”
“Kerr?” Rafe stroked his jaw. “Wait, the heiress? The one in that video—” He broke off when Luke elbowed him.
“Shut it, Rafe,” Luke whispered. “They’re coming this way.”
The two women, who had been openly looking around the room for someone, were now headed this direction.
That was when Mason realized what—who—he was looking at.
Tess.
His quiet, oversized-T-shirt-wearing dog walker. She of the crappy car, used messenger bag, and scuffed army boots.
She of the kiss that had traveled straight from her lips to his groin, leaving him hard and hurting.
That Tess.
His Tess, now looking like the naughtiest of imps, her dark hair falling around her shoulders in a disheveled cloud, her lips outlined in a shimmering pink gloss, her eyes like dark forest umber, made smoldering and catlike with liner at the edges. The curves he had felt under her ill-fitting clothes moving as she walked, breasts loose and full under her dress, nipples barely visible in the muted light. Jesus, she was walking sex, with hips outlined by a form-fitting skirt and a tiny waist that begged to be encircled by his hands.
Snuggly? Possibly the worst word he could think of to describe her.
When they got back to his apartment, they weren’t going to snuggle. That was for certain.
“Mason’s got a woody,” Zoe sang softly. “You guys, look at him. He’s transfixed.”
He didn’t stop to hear their response, just started for Tess without thinking. It took only a few steps before he was there.
“You look…” He stopped to take it in again. “You look fantastic.”
A hint of blush appeared on her cheeks. “Thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, then fluffed it back out, glancing quickly at the woman by her side. “I’m here to have some fun, just like you wanted.”
She seemed nervous. He wondered why. Was it the bar? The clothes? Usually he could read people so easily, but there was something under the surface with Tess that he still didn’t quite understand. Something from her past that made this night different.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend to join the crowd. This is Cecilia.”
The blonde held out her hand with a polite smile. “Cecilia Kerr. We’ve met once before. You probably don’t remember.”
He tore his gaze away from Tess to take in the other woman. She was cool and composed, her eyes almost clinical as they assessed him. “Of course, I do. Breast cancer charity auction, right?”
She blinked, clearly surprised, but it only lasted a moment. “Impressive. You must have a mind for faces.”
“As if anyone could forget you.” He slipped into charming autopilot as his eyes slid back to Tess.
Had this creature always been inside the one he’d gotten to know? Someone who went clubbing with heiresses? Cecilia Kerr was one of the richest people under thirty in San Francisco, heiress to her father’s tech bus
inesses but also a successful businesswomen in her own right. She’d started as an accountant for her father and now served as one of his key financial advisors, but also dabbled in angel investing circles, working primarily with women-owned-and-operated businesses. Everyone knew—and the smart ones feared—Cecilia.
She gave a tiny, delicate snort, and he whipped around to look at her, but there was no malice in her eyes. Just a hint of warning. He focused on her, realizing in a moment that Cecilia had come tonight as gatekeeper, and if he wanted to get to Tess it would be through her.
“Aren’t you sweet,” she said coolly.
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “But I do know that you are not someone to be trifled with.”
She nodded with approval. “Smart, too.” She inclined her head toward the group staring at them with open interest from the table. “Why don’t you introduce us to your friends?”
“Of course.” He gestured toward the group, and Tess moved ahead of them, leaving him staring at the perfect line of her back. His fingers itched to touch her. To trace the line of her spine with his lips. To slide his hand along the curve of her bottom.
And he was supposed to just be a friend? Ridiculous. Absurd. He should just march up to her right now and demand they stop all this friend nonsense and go right back to his place so they could finish what they’d started a week ago.
Except, he’d made a deal. He was a friend, and she was here to have fun.
Cecilia, who remained next to him, touched his sleeve. He half turned to her, and she leaned in toward him, a chilly smile fixed on her lips. “Hurt her and I will make you pay in ways you’ve never imagined,” she whispered.
Before he could react, she was striding ahead of them, hand extended to meet Luke. And all Mason could do was follow behind, wondering what had happened to his innocent dog walker, and when he had so completely lost control.
…
It took most of one absurdly expensive and frighteningly delicious cocktail before Tess’s heart slowed down enough for her to take a regular breath.
It was a few sips into the second before she actually started to relax enough to enjoy herself.
Mason had told her he’d meet her at the bar, so she’d borrowed everything she could think of from Cece—from makeup to hairspray to a giant straightening iron that Cece gently removed from her grasp because she so clearly had no idea how to use it—and returned to his place to finish some homework and walk Wick one last time before she got ready.
She and Cece had driven separately to the bar and met outside. Cece proclaimed her beautiful and perfect, and Tess considered vomiting in a storm grate. But the entrance had gone better than she could have imagined. Mason had seemed properly bowled over by her appearance, and despite her worst fears, no one had yet proclaimed Tess a loser who didn’t deserve to be at a fancy bar.
In fact, Mason’s friends were, she had to admit, genuinely nice people. Connor was more reserved than Mason, but he had a warmth in his eyes that was hard to miss. Rafe, one of the lawyers, was downright swoonable, with dark eyes and a voice like melted chocolate. Nate was the only one Tess would have been happy to avoid. With a voice barely above a growl and startling green eyes, his impressive physique—not to mention his attitude—reminded her more of a heavyweight MMA fighter than a polished venture capitalist. Zoe, the lone woman of the group, managed to somehow keep them all in check with her acerbic wit and absolute refusal to back down in any argument.
It helped to know that Cece was there, making sure she didn’t get into trouble. She’d immediately inserted herself between Tess and Nate, though Tess suspected that was as much because she was enjoying arguing with him than out of any protective instinct. They must have already known each other, because Cece reserved her iciest voice for him when they’d greeted each other with tense air-kisses. Now, they were standing at the edge of the group sparring.
“An interest rate hike? Now? Why not just kick the legs out from under your business while you’re at it?” Cece rolled her eyes in exasperation.
Nate took a sip of whiskey from a glass tumbler before he responded. “You’d rather have inflation, I guess? Because that’s so good for business?”
Luke moved closer to Tess and leaned down to speak over the crowd. All eight of them were clustered loosely around two adjacent bar tables. Luke had taken up residence at Tess’s left, while Mason hovered at her right.
Of all of the ways she had imagined the evening going wrong, she had never expected Mason to be the one to make things uncomfortable. He’d started the night acting normally, introducing her around the table and giving her some distance to get to know his friends. Then, as she started chatting with them, particularly Luke, his mood seemed to sour. There were some jokes about Mason having a four-date rule—why wasn’t she surprised?—which only seemed to irritate him more. For a few minutes, she’d been worried, imagining that she’d actually embarrassed herself somehow and he was annoyed with her. But she soon started to suspect that what he really didn’t like was the attention she was getting from men at the bar, including his friend Luke.
But that was ridiculous. There was nothing between them.
They were just friends.
That was all.
Determined to ignore his mood, she doubled down on trying to relax and enjoy herself. And since her usual maximum alcohol intake at a party measured somewhere around a light beer, by the time she reached the bottom of her second cocktail she was feeling delightfully light-headed. She was even starting to feel comfortable enough to tease Luke about the sleeve of tattoos that she could see peeking out beneath the cuff of linen shirt, which didn’t seem to fit his role as a corporate lawyer. Of all of them, he was the one she felt the easiest talking to, and one she actually felt like could have become a real friend.
“I’ve never seen a woman argue with Nate quite so effectively,” Luke said to Tess, inclining his head toward Cece to make it clear who he was talking about. “Except maybe for Zoe. But she gets too frustrated when he gets all know-it-all-y. Your friend there hasn’t lost her cool once.”
“That’s Cece.” Tess shook her head with pride. “Nothing rattles her.”
Of course, one thing had, but that was years ago, and they’d never talked about it. It was the one dark place in Cece’s life that she wouldn’t discuss, even with Tess.
“The two of you are quite a pair,” Luke said, raising his glass in her direction. “Double trouble, I guess you could say?”
Tess giggled. She actually giggled, which was saying something because she wasn’t even sure she had been capable of making that sound, until now. It was just so damn fun to feel like this for a night. Like she was beautiful and sexy and put together.
Mason made a sound of disgust. “Really, Luke? That’s the best line you can come up with?”
Tess’s giggle died in her throat. “Don’t worry,” she told Luke, shooting a quick glare at Mason. “I thought it was a lovely line.”
“It’s not a line if it’s true.” Luke’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t superhumanly gorgeous the way Mason was, but he had an undeniable charisma. His eyes twinkled when he smiled at her, and with the tiny earring he had in one ear, he looked for all the world like a modern-day pirate.
Mason gave an audible groan. Tess deliberately turned her back on him.
“So, how’d you get into dog walking, Tess?” Luke asked.
She swallowed, caught off guard by the question. Which was silly, of course, because it was her job, and didn’t people always ask about jobs? Yet somehow she hadn’t thought to prepare a response, or figure out how she would address the obvious issue that she walked dogs for a living while they were lawyers and investors that probably made more in a day than she’d make all year.
“I just like taking care of animals, I guess.”
Luke studied her for a moment, as if he could tell there was more to it but wasn’t going to pry. “How does that work these days? Do you have an app or
something?”
“I’m listed on a few different apps, and I’ve got a website. I’ve been trying to get a few more clients in the city, to make the commute worthwhile, so if you’ve got any referrals, feel free to send them my way.” She forced a cheerful grin.
“She’s going to be a vet,” Mason said. “She works at a clinic during the week and walks dogs on her days off.”
Tess felt a flush crawl up her neck. She had no idea why he felt compelled to say that, but she definitely did not need him filling in the blanks for everyone. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of being in school. Not exactly. But it would have been nice to fit in for once.
“That does sound pretty impressive, actually. You’re in vet school now?” Luke asked.
She grimaced. “Not yet. Just finishing my undergrad. I’ll start applying to vet schools in the fall.”
“Nice,” Luke said. “What are you studying?”
Surprised, she looked up, searching his face for a hint of condescending or mocking. “Biology.”
He nodded. “That can’t be easy to do while you’re working.”
Across the table, Rafe chimed in, “Seriously, very impressive. Mason can barely hold down one job let alone two plus school.”
There were chuckles around the tables except from Mason, whose scowl only deepened.
“Where are you taking classes?” Luke asked.
“San Jose State.” As nice as they were being, the continued questions made Tess’s skin crawl. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about school.
“She does mostly online classes,” Mason said. “Works them in around her other jobs.”
She was really, truly, going to kill him. Did he not realize she did not want to talk about it?
Luke shook his head. “I worked a few hours a week while I was in law school, but that was it. How do you juggle it all?”
“It’s not a big deal,” Tess said, trying to sound lighthearted. “I like my work, so that helps.”
“I wish I could have a pet,” Zoe said, sounding a little wistful. “But I travel way too much.”
