Neighbors with the Single Dad (The Single Dads of Seattle Book 8)

by Whitley Cox

  He reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’m glad we were able to clear the air,” he said. His nose wrinkled, and then he grinned even wider. “Now that air smells like sex. Hot, hot sex.”

  She giggled foolishly.

  He squeezed her hand. “I mean it though. I’m glad we talked. I’m glad we’re not over.”

  She stared down at their entwined hands and nodded. “Me too.”

  “I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow and see about transferring Todd to another executive,” he said. “I can’t … ” He shook his head and glanced down at her. “I don’t even want to be in the same room as that man. I’m afraid of what I might do, now that I know what he did to you.”

  His protectiveness was touching, but he also needed to know how dangerous Todd could be. Scott did not want to cross her ex-husband. Todd’s morals were questionable and his scruples lacking. Who knew what he could do to Scott, not to mention his career, if he got a bee in his psychopathic bonnet and decided to exact his revenge?

  “We’ll figure it out, babe,” Scott said, releasing her hand and pulling her into his arms, his lips pressing against her forehead. “Todd is the least of my concerns right now. Let’s just ride the wave that we’re good, the sex was great and there is plenty more where that came from.”

  She chuckled against him, her hands splaying across the warm solidness of his back. “Okay. Just please be careful, Scott. Todd is dangerous.”

  He kissed her forehead again. “I will. Now, let’s plan a date, because I meant what I said, woman, I want to take you out. Hot sex in hotel rooms and salons is great, but I want to be your boyfriend. I want to show you off to the world.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, and she smiled shyly. “I’d love that.”

  13

  “What do you mean it’s a conflict of interest?” Remy, Scott’s boss, asked snidely as Scott sat in Remy’s enormous office the following day. “Since when?”

  Since it’s none of your damn business.

  “Since recently. I, uh … ” He scratched the back of his neck as nerves prickled along his freshly shaved skin. “Since I discovered that the woman I’m seeing is actually Todd’s ex-wife.” Scott swallowed. “Their divorce was not exactly amicable.”

  And Todd is a motherfucking rapist bastard who should be behind bars right now.

  Remy’s normally rather pale complexion turned the color of a tomato fresh off the vine. “You’re saying that our biggest client in I don’t know how long is suddenly a conflict of interest because of a woman?”

  Scott’s hands gripped the armrests of his chair to keep himself from lunging at Remy for making such a remark, not to mention the irritated facial expression that went with it. “Not just a woman. Todd’s ex-wife. This has no way of ending well. If you haven’t noticed, the man is fiercely competitive, demanding and is used to getting his own way. If he gets a bee up his ass about me dating his ex-wife, what’s to stop him from just up and pulling all his businesses from our service?”

  “Uh, I dunno, how about a little something called a binding contract?”

  Scott chomped down hard on his back teeth. How old was Remy anyway? Twenty-five? Twenty-eight? He was no more than a maggot. A grotesque, white, wiggly little flesh eater. And how in the hell did he get into a senior partner position?

  Oh yeah, that’s right. His daddy was the CEO.

  Clearing his throat and loosening his grip on the chair, Scott made sure to keep his tone as respectful as was humanly possible when faced with an idiot who was possibly still in diapers when Scott was busy losing his virginity in the back of a Chevy pickup. “Yes, we do have a contract, and it is binding, but that doesn’t mean Mr. Fletcher wouldn’t try. There is an escape clause in the contract, even though I’m not sure my romantic life is grounds for contract termination. But the man has an army of lawyers at his disposal, and he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who’s used to losing. It would come down to whether or not you want to waste our company money on lawyer fees during a lawsuit.”

  Remy worked the jaw of his baby face back and forth, his amber eyes closer to a catlike yellow, which combined with his orangey-red hair reminded Scott of his childhood cat Chester, a bit fat ginger thing missing half an ear and with a docked tail.

  “Look, Remy.” Scott sat forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his thighs, his gaze level with his dumb-dumb boss. “I’m not saying we cut ties with Fletcher Holdings. I’m just saying it would behoove us—behoove the company for me to be removed off the file.”

  “Or you just break up with this chick,” Remy offered, curling his fingertips toward his wrist and examining his nails. He appeared bored.

  “Not an option.”

  Remy kicked his feet up onto his desk, reached for a dark blue stress ball and began tossing it up into the air. “Well, I want you on this project, Scott. You’re a new hire, you’re still on probation, and I want to see how you’re going to handle this VIP client. You came highly recommended.” His cheeks grew ruddy again. “And so far, I think you were a bit overrated. I’ve yet to be wowed by anything you’d done. I want you to prove me wrong.”

  Rage raced through Scott’s veins, heating his cheeks and chest until he felt sweat begin to bead on his upper lip. He wanted to wipe it away, but his knuckles were lily white, he was gripping the chair arms so tight again.

  Who the fuck was this guy anyway?

  An entitled maggot, that’s who.

  Inhaling deep through his nose, Scott stood up and retreated to the closed door of Remy’s office. “Then I will ask that you keep this information to yourself, please.”

  Remy tossed the stress ball back up into the air again. “I’m already bored with this topic, Scott. It doesn’t interest me. Making money interests me. So make money from Fletcher Holdings, and that’s when I’ll be interested.”

  Exhaling through his nose because he was clenching his molars so damn hard, Scott gave his maggot-boss one nod, then opened the door and left. He needed to text Eva. He needed to let her know that things did not go as planned. Now they had to really be careful, because if Todd got wind of the two of them together, it could not only make Eva’s life a living hell but it could be the end of Scott’s career. And as much as he disliked Remy Barker, he really liked his new job at Dynamic Creative, and he really, really liked his new salary.

  Once he was back in his office, he grabbed his phone off the desk and brought up Eva’s number. He’d taken a picture of her last night, all freshly fucked and looking unbelievable. That was now the photo that went along with her contact info. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

  After staring at her for a full minute, he texted her the bad news.

  Babe, my boss is an idiot maggot and won’t let me switch off the project. I’m really sorry.

  It was only about five minutes before she messaged back.

  That really sucks. Did you explain the conflict of interest?

  Yep. He’s an idiot maggot. Doesn’t care.

  Todd is dangerous, Scott. If he finds out we’re dating …

  I know, babe. We’ll figure it out, I promise.

  Fuck, he was getting tired of this texting bullshit. He needed to hear her voice. If she was with a client, she wouldn’t be able to reply so quickly.

  He ran his thumb along the curve of his chin as he punched dial on her number then put the phone to his ear, awaiting her sultry, throaty voice.

  “Hello?”

  God, that voice was what wet dreams were made of.

  He smiled without meaning to—the natural side effect of hearing her feminine rasp—and swiveled around in his chair to look out the window of his snazzy corner office. “Hey, babe,” he started. His view of the sound was slightly blocked by a shorter building in front of him, but he could still see the water and the boats in the bay. There was nothing quite like Seattle in the springtime. The sea sparkled, the trees were in full bloom, and the urge to mate was thick in the air.

  Eva sighed. “I don’t want
you to lose your job, Scott.”

  He propped his feet up on the window ledge. “I won’t. I’ll just be careful. We’ll just be careful.”

  She sighed again, and it was all he could do to not envision her sighing as he slid his fingers between her legs. She’d made a similar sound last night down in her salon. “I miss you already. Isn’t that crazy?”

  His dick jerked in his trousers. “Not crazy at all. I miss you too. What are you doing Friday?”

  “Going out on a date with you, why?”

  Well that made his chest expand and his smile hurt his face. “Just making sure you’re available. Dinner?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.”

  The air between them grew quiet. His ears strained in an attempt to hear what she was up to. His office door was closed, but there were murmurs from outside sneaking under his door.

  “Eva?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I can’t wait to get you naked again.” Even though he knew she was scared about her ex finding out about them, no way in hell was he wasting any time talking about him. Not when they could be talking and planning other things.

  Fifty bucks said she was blushing.

  And probably biting her lip too.

  “And then once I have you naked, sprawled out on my bed, I’m going to run my tongue over every inch of your body. Leave no nipple unsucked, no hipbone unlicked.”

  All that came through on the other end was a quick inhale of breath followed by a low moan. Yeah, she’d done that last night too.

  “Friday, come over for dinner. I’ll cook for you.”

  “Mac and cheese again?” Her breathy voice made his cock do another twitch. He adjusted himself for more comfort.

  “If that’s what your heart desires.”

  “Mmmm … what my heart desires … what about my body?”

  “I’ll take care of it all. Your heart, your taste buds, your body. No part of you will be left unsatisfied. Unlicked. Untouched. Unsucked.”

  Her next words came out as more of a whimper. “Scott … ”

  “Eva … ” A knock at his office door broke the spell, and thank goodness it did. He was sporting a full stiffy now, and that was not workplace-appropriate. “Listen, babe, I’ve gotta go. But I’ll call you tonight and we can make plans for tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And Eva?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to fuck you until the cows come home.” Then he ended the call, but not before he heard the satisfying gasp from the incredible woman on the other end. He adjusted his pants, spun around in his chair and slid his waist back under his desk to hide any remaining evidence of his arousal. “Come in,” he barked.

  The doorknob turned, and though he was expecting Remy the douchebag or his receptionist, Sondra, it was neither.

  “Hey, dumbass, wanna grab lunch?” Liam asked, sauntering into Scott’s office in his fancy suit, shiny loafers and very expensive smile.

  Ah, just who he needed to see. His retainer-free lawyer on-call. Also known as his annoying but loyal big brother.

  Double-checking that his cock was now back to its flaccid self, he snatched his wallet from the corner of his desk and stood. “I am if you’re buying?”

  Liam’s grin grew. “Sure, I’ll take my poor baby brother out for lunch. It’s the least I can do, given that I probably make triple your salary. I have to help out those in need.”

  Scott rolled his eyes and pushed past his brother, who was just a half-inch taller than him. “It is the least you can do.”

  Liam slapped him on the back and, laughing, followed Scott out into the reception area.

  Scott jerked his chin toward Sondra and patted the counter above her desk twice. “I’m heading for lunch with Liam.”

  Sondra’s cheeks pinked up as she settled her gaze on Liam. The woman had a very obvious crush on him, and Liam played that up by flirting shamelessly with her whenever he came to visit Scott. Not that Scott had worked there long, but Liam usually came by once a week for lunch, and when he did, he charmed the pants off all the women in the office.

  As they made their way toward the elevator, Scott let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping as the last of the air left his lungs.

  “Ah, see.” Liam tapped his temple. “Big brother intuition. I knew my little Scottie needed me. What’s up? How can Liam fix your life this time?” They stepped into the elevator, and Liam hit M for the main floor.

  Scott rolled his eyes again. “Awfully crowded in this elevator, you, me and your ego.”

  Liam tossed his head back and laughed.

  They stepped into the building lobby, then out into the warm, late April afternoon. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the breeze was mild.

  It was a beautiful day, and yet the dark clouds that Scott felt approaching his life, lingering just behind him, were ominous and foreboding.

  Despite the massive ego that joined them as a third party for lunch, maybe it was a good thing Liam had stopped by. He could pick his brother’s brain on how to handle this Todd, Eva and Dynamic Creative situation.

  “So, little Scottie, what’s got you down?” Liam teased as he sipped his beer on the rooftop terrace of the fancy downtown Seattle harbor restaurant. It was a favorite spot of Liam’s and a lunch hotspot for Seattle’s upper echelon in the corporate world. Not only did the suit monkeys come here to eat, but they also went to be seen, network and hold meetings.

  Scott scanned the harbor beyond them and watched as an enormous crane across the bay loaded shipping containers onto a freighter. He’d once heard that that was one of the world’s most stressful jobs. That the crane operators only worked four-hour shifts but got paid for eight, it was so nerve-racking.

  At that moment, after his meeting with Remy and knowing that he was going to have to see Todd tomorrow when he came in to touch base on things, Scott was seriously considering a job change, and shipping container crane operator didn’t sound half bad.

  “Hmm, Scottie?” Liam probed.

  Scott hated that nickname, and Liam knew it. Which was why he used it.

  “Unbeknownst to any of us,” he started, “it would appear as though I am sleeping with and dating my new, very rich, very successful and very important client’s ex-wife. And their separation was anything but amicable.” He took a long pull off his own beer bottle. “He’s also a terrible human being, and I’d like to rip his fucking face off.”

  Liam’s dark brows shot up beneath the swath of light brown hair that hung perfectly over his forehead. His brown eyes, a shade darker than Scott’s, went wide, and all the amusement left his face.

  “You’re shitting me?”

  “’Fraid not. That’s why she stood me up Monday. Saw her ex through the window at Prime and hit the bricks. Then she went all squirrelly thinking I was going to side with him.” He began to pick at the label of his beer bottle with his thumbnail. Anything he could do to keep his hands busy, otherwise they would surely form fists and he’d end up punching a hole through the wall, breaking his hand in the process. Anytime he even thought about Todd and what he did to Eva, he saw red and wanted to break things—and one particular person.

  Liam tugged on his chin, the thin layer of tidy scruff making a raspy sound against his fingers. “So what are you going to do?”

  The waitress arrived with their Kung Pao steak sandwiches—a fusion dish the place had become instantly famous for—and then quickly retreated. Liam dug into his sandwich.

  Scott merely picked at his fries, dunking them into the homemade sesame ginger aioli. “I went to my boss today and asked to be removed from the project. I told Remy it was a conflict of interest and that Fletcher Holdings would be better suited with someone else.”

  “And he didn’t agree?”

  “He did not. I even went so far as to tell him that I’m dating our client’s wife, and he still didn’t seem to care. The guy is a tool. Earned his position by kissing his father’s
ass.” He took another pull off his beer, then nodded when the waitress wandered past and asked if he’d like another.

  “Well, what are you going to do if this Fletcher guy finds out? Is he dangerous?”

  Scott wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and nodded.

  “Then you’ve got to find a way to either end it with Eva or come clean with Fletcher. Because even though he’ll still be mad you’re fucking his ex, I bet you he’ll be even more pissed if he finds out from a source that isn’t you.” A dark blond streak in Liam’s hair glinted in the afternoon sun as he flipped his head back, causing that swath he babied to bob over his forehead. Scott could practically hear women on the patio groan and swoon.

  Scott’s older brother was known far and wide as one of Seattle’s most eligible bachelors. He was rich, he was successful, he was handsome, and he was straight. A winning combination for any red-blooded woman still looking for Mr. Right.

  Too bad Liam was nobody’s Mr. Right. Not anymore at least. He was determined to never settle down again. He wouldn’t even consider having a girlfriend. Not after his ex, Cidrah, stomped all over his heart. Now Liam had his Wednesday night fuck buddy, Richelle, and the two kept it casual—or so he said.

  “I can’t be the one to tell him,” Scott said before he dove into his sandwich. “The guy would probably fire Dynamic Creative and then kill me.”

  The meat from the sandwich hit his tongue, and he fought back a groan, losing the battle and squeezing his eyes shut for good measure. Fuck, it was almost as good as sex. Spicy, sweet, sour and salty. All the best flavor notes piled between two slices of homemade sourdough. Peanuts and ginger, sesame and soy sauce. It was all there, and combined with the perfectly cooked rare steak—if he hadn’t just had incredible sex last night, he would have possibly ranked it higher than sex. But sex with Eva was unsurpassable, even by an awesome steak sandwich.

  “Can she tell him?” Liam asked, forcing Scott to open his eyes and swallow his bite.