Broken Ground: (Broken Series Book 1)

by Anna Paige

  Too bad she was wrong.

  "Actually, the stars are hard to see because the lights of the city drown them out. Every so often I could pick out a few, though."

  She looked deflated. Taking a long draw on her beer, she muttered, "I hadn't considered that. It was a nice thought anyway."

  Shit. Should have kept my mouth shut.

  I rushed to say something, anything to bring back that smile. "It's not a rooftop view, but I'm willing to bet you could see a million stars from this pool."

  She stood and walked over to the railing, lifting her eyes to the wide-open sky. "I think you're right. I guess being out in the middle of nowhere has a few perks after all."

  "You're welcome to find out. I'll even cook us dinner while we wait for the stars to make their appearance." I wasn't sure where that had come from, hadn't planned it, but I genuinely liked the idea.

  "You cook?" She sounded both impressed and shocked.

  I leveled my stare at her. "Of course. Why is that surprising?"

  She laughed. "You're the one who once mentioned Hungry Man dinners and said you usually eat cereal bars for breakfast. I assumed you weren't into cooking."

  "Oh. Well, I'll have you know that I'm fairly proficient in the kitchen." And a fucking genius in the bedroom.

  I really needed to find a way to stop thinking shit like that. It was a one-time event.

  An epic event, but still.

  "Gran used to lecture all us boys on knowing how to care for ourselves. We had to help around the house, do laundry, and assist in the kitchen. We all hated it, but she said knowing how to do those things would save us a lot of grief later on." Yep, that did it. Mentioning Gran = No more innuendo.

  Ali looked amused. "What grief was she saving you from?"

  I took a long swallow of my beer, draining the last of it and setting the empty bottle on the floor by my feet, the patio's expensive indoor/outdoor carpeting softening the sound. "She told us that we'd have more time to find the right woman if we knew all that stuff. She figured most guys ended up in bad relationships because they scooped up the first available woman for fear of starving to death or running out of clean underwear."

  Her laughter rang out, echoing into the distance.

  TALIA DECLINED DINNER and drifted back to sleep, the stress of the day exhausting her.

  The sun had been set for half an hour though there was still fading light coming from behind the mountains. We decided to wait a while to go out to the pool, letting our dinner digest. The clouds disappeared hours before and the heat of the day had finally dwindled to a tolerable level, so I decided to cook outside where we could enjoy the scenery. Grilled salmon flavored with lemon and dill, which I served alongside fresh grilled vegetables.

  Ali cleaned her plate, leaving me feeling oddly proud.

  Grabbing a couple of fluffy white towels from the linen closet, I padded out onto the patio. Ali had gone on ahead and was sitting on the patio chaise waiting for me, her silhouette taking on an air of mystery in the fading light. Since most of her things had been shredded in the break-in, she had to either borrow a suit from Talia or swim in regular clothes.

  She opted for a two-piece suit that made her curves look fucking amazing. The damn thing looked like it was made for her, despite it belonging to someone else. I'd barely managed not to stand there gaping with slack-jawed adoration when she stepped out wearing it.

  Good damn thing that water's cold.

  I let her go on ahead so I could gather my wits and figure out how to forcibly redirect my blood flow away from my cock. Not an easy task when she was bounding down the incline toward the pool, mind-blowingly beautiful in every conceivable way as she disappeared into the darkness.

  "Hey, don't forget to kill the porch light." She called, laughing when her request echoed back at her, getting fainter with each repetition. I shifted the towels under one arm and grabbed two of the plush floating pillows from the storage room before dousing the light. I could barely see Ali's outline before I switched it off, and I couldn't see my hand in front of my face after. As I slowly stumbled in the direction of the pool, there was a small flash of light in the distance.

  Ali held the lit match to something that sat on the table between the lounge chairs. A moment later the distinct flickering of a candle flame became the beacon toward which I moved. As I neared the seating area, several more candles joined the first. "That better?" she asked, the light dancing over her face,

  "Much, thank you. I thought I was going to break my neck trying to find the pool." I joked.

  "Definitely no city lights to obscure our view." She observed teasingly as she made her way to each of the small tables to light candles. By the time she was done, there was just enough light for us to see the outline of the pool but not so much that it would be bothersome.

  I laid the towels on the chaise she had just vacated and shuffled over to the shallow end. Ali joined me, and I handed her one of the pillows, which resembled neck rolls and were the perfect size to hold our heads slightly out of the water so we could converse. We stepped in slowly, adjusting to the cool temperature before moving deeper. She sucked in a sharp breath when the water reached her thighs, a sound that struck me as staggeringly erotic. It was the sound I'd imagined her making as I thrust into her fully for the first time, a scenario I had replayed in my mind countless times. I was suddenly thankful for the darkness. It helped shield her body from my notice. That was probably for the best as I was sure she would drive me to distraction. The lack of illumination also concealed the burgeoning erection that her gasp had inspired.

  I'd only waded in up to my knees trying to keep pace with Ali, but that plan was out the fucking window. I sucked in a breath and dove toward the deep end, the frigid temperatures at the deepest point would hopefully help my situation. I needed a quick dose of ball-shriveling cold water.

  WITH DARKNESS ENVELOPING us, we silently floated through the water on our backs staring up at a sky full of stars. The only sound was the slight lapping of the water and the intermittent rustling of leaves in the soft breeze. We occasionally brushed past each other, fleeting touches of warmth to fight off the chill.

  As the moon rose higher in the sky, the events of the past few days replayed in my mind: the gala, Keith, remembering that night at the hospital, the sound of Ali panting my name, the taste of her on my tongue, the look of despair when she saw what was left of her things. All of it pulled me in different ways.

  I wanted to protect her, avenge her, fuck her, hold her.

  And I also wanted to get the hell away from her.

  In my thirty-three years, I'd hurt far more people than I cared to remember. I'd hurt her too if given the chance. It was inevitable, ingrained in my very soul. I was never going to be the man she deserved. I'd realized that long ago.

  As she floated past, and her fingertips threaded through mine pulling me into her side, I realized something even more devastating.

  I couldn't give her up.

  THE SMELLS OF coffee and bacon greeted me when I awoke the next morning. Smiling, I rolled out of bed and stretched my sore muscles, briefly wondering how damn many laps I'd done the day before. Apparently it hadn't been enough because I'd tossed and turned all night. The stresses of the day and my proximity to Ali had kept my mind churning all night.

  Before I could even finish dressing, my phone rang.

  Spencer.

  Fucking awesome.

  It was like the guy had radar, he always knew when I wanted to avoid him.

  I slid my thumb over the screen and brought the phone to my ear, giving my usual greeting. "Good morning, fucker."

  "Yeah, good morning, manwhore." His voice was strained, not a good sign. "Sorry to start off your day with bad news but we've got a problem."

  I pinned the phone between my ear and shoulder, reaching for a shirt to pull on now that I had guests to think about. Spencer's tone had me nervous already. "Whatever it is, we can figure it out. What's going on?"

 
; He blew out a breath. "You're not gonna like it."

  Oh for fuck's sake! "Would you just spit it the fuck out please? I hate when you do that."

  "Fine, asshole. I just got a letter from an attorney's office." I could hear pages shuffling in the background. "According to this, Marissa Barnett is bringing a civil suit against the company. It alleges here that she was sexually harassed and wrongfully terminated when she thwarted unwanted advances. She's suing for three million." He spat out the last sentence with such vehemence that I was stunned silent.

  What the fuck? Speaking as quietly as possible with my blood boiling in my ears, I shot back, "Everything she's saying happened is a goddamn lie. You know she pursued me, she's the one that threw herself at me. Fuck, Spence, I walked in and found her draped across my desk naked." I was fuming now. Realizing I might be overheard despite my attempts to lower my voice, I stepped from my bedroom into the en-suite and closed the door, pacing. "That crazy bitch can't say we fired her. She fucking quit. And she turned in a letter of resignation. It's in her file!" My voice shook with rage.

  "Actually, the file is missing. No one knows where it went." He sounded more puzzled than pissed.

  "I'm sorry, what? How the fuck did that happen? No one has keys to those cabinets except us and our..." I stopped pacing and flicked a glance at myself in the mirror.

  "Assistants?" Spencer finished for me. "Yeah, I thought of that too. She turned in her keys when she left, but there's still the possibility that she made a copy. I wouldn't have even considered the prospect if there hadn't been some recent issues with files being moved." The ominous tone in his voice made my skin crawl.

  "What recent issues?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

  "My assistant mentioned a couple months ago that she thought she needed to go over our filing system with Caroline. When I asked why, she said she had been finding files in odd places, stuffed all the way in back rather than in their proper place." Caroline had almost thirty damn years of experience, so I doubted that she was to blame. "And it's happened several times since, the most recent instance was no more than a month ago when the employee files were strewn all over the damn place, totally out of sequence and some were even in the wrong cabinet altogether. None of our office staff was responsible, I'm sure of that."

  "Motherfucker!" I gritted. "That's probably when she took her file."

  "I have someone here now, changing out all the locks on the cabinets, entry doors, and offices. If she's planning a return trip, she's SOL."

  "Okay, so where does all this leave us? She can't get away with this shit."

  Spencer's voice turned steely cold. "Don't worry. She was so focused on you the whole time she was here that I was never on her radar. But I'm about to be."

  I leaned against the counter and barely resisted the urge to punch something. "This is all my fault. Fuck!" The sound echoed off the walls, and I forcibly lowered my voice. "You warned me. You knew I was going to be the one to ruin us, and you were right. I'm sorry, brother. Sorrier than you'll ever know. Does Brant know yet?"

  "No, and I'm not telling him. We're not defeated yet, Clay. Don't forget who you're talking to. Let me see what I can come up with. If I strike out, then we can tell Brant. Alright?" I mumbled my agreement. "This isn't all your fault, man. I saw the way she was coming on to you, I knew in my gut that she needed to be reassigned or let go, but I did nothing. I'm just as at fault as you. The only innocent one here is Brant. Let's put the brakes on her bullshit and send her packing."

  "Gladly. Give me a few hours and I can be back in Richmond for a strategy session."

  "No, you stay right where you are for now. I need to do some digging, so we can come up with a game plan. In the meantime, don't answer if she calls, don't reply to messages, do not engage her in any way." He puffed out a frustrated breath. "Lay low and keep out of trouble. I can only handle one catastrophe at a time, okay?"

  Just perfect.

  If I'd thought he'd take my new living arrangements hard before, I could only imagine what he'd say now.

  Fuck. Me.

  No matter what, I couldn't ask Ali and Talia to leave. Spencer better be able to make peace with that when he did find out. They needed me, and I wasn't letting my screw ups interfere with keeping them safe.

  His radar must have kicked in again because he said, "So, now that I've ruined your morning, tell me about the gala. How'd it go? Did you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

  He was trying for levity and missing by a mile, but I appreciated the effort.

  "It was fine. Dropped a big fat check and shook a bunch of sweaty diamond encrusted hands that had never done a hard day's work in their lives."

  "And Ali?"

  Ali? She tastes like honey and could suck a bowling ball through a garden hose... No, wait, can't tell him about that.

  Focus, Clay.

  "She did fine. Her bosses seemed to have missed her." They were also encouraging about her future and gave the impression that she might just have a job to go back to, but I wasn't telling him that. He didn't know the truth about Ali's work situation, and I saw no need to tell him. It had no bearing on her job with us.

  Just like I wasn't going to tell him I remembered how she and I had met. I wouldn't be sharing that story with anyone. She'd already been forced to live through it, that was enough. Repeating it, saying the words would give it new life somehow and I didn't want that, for her sake.

  Spencer blew out a breath, sounding relieved. "Good. I'm glad you offered to be there for her, but I have to admit that I was worried about the ramifications. No need for the company name to be linked with any more scandal than it already is."

  He was right, not that I would have let that stop me. It wasn't who my date was that had been the problem it had been what I remembered. The only thing that had kept me from beating the shit out of Keith was my respect for Ali, nothing more. Just more proof that I was selfish. "You act like you thought she and I were going to level D.C. or something. It was a charity dinner." Might as well get it all out on the table, well, most of it anyway. "But there was some trouble."

  "Shit. What now?"

  I loved the way he managed to make three words sound like an impeachment of my character. "Nothing at the gala. There was an issue when we got back here. When the girls got back to their apartment, it had been broken into and vandalized. Shit was shredded all over the place."

  "Oh God. Are they both okay? Any idea who did it? Is there anything we can do to help?" He was sincerely concerned, panicked even, and I realized that I'd been snapping at him a lot lately for no good reason. He wasn't the one being an asshole, I was. I took everything he said the wrong way because I resented the deal he'd forced me into. The contract. Gran's house. My personal life. All of it. And he was right on all accounts. Fuck. I really was a shitty friend. He deserved better than that after all I'd put him through over the years.

  "They're fine. Just shaken up. We have a couple of people in mind as possibilities but aren't sure of anything." I sat on the edge of the tub and braced myself for his reaction. "As far as helping, we kind of already are."

  His voice was cautious, slow as he asked, "How exactly are we helping?"

  "Well, they couldn't stay in the apartment, obviously, and I wasn't about to let them stay in the one crappy motel this town has to offer, so I brought them back here and gave them the first floor." I sat there cringing as I waited for his reply, hearing nothing but the soft hiss of the open line.

  After a lengthy pause, he sighed. "Probably a good idea."

  "I'm sorry... what?" No bitching? No accusing? No jumping up and down like a pissed off cartoon character?

  "I said it was a good idea. I saw that motel, I wouldn't have wanted them there either, and they'll be safe at the cabin with you. At least until they find out who's responsible for the break in. Let me know if I can help with anything." After a long pause he continued, "So, what time is your meeting with the building inspector today?"

  Wait a goddamn minu
te. He wasn't going to say anything else? Not even a not so gentle reminder about our deal? No lectures or pointed comments? He'd just finished telling me about the lawsuit and he's okay with me moving my new assistant in with me? "Around ten. You're not going to say anything about Ali and Talia staying here?"

  "What else should I say?" Why did he sound amused?

  "I don't know. I kind of expected a warning of some sort, something reminiscent of your infamous 'don't fuck the employees' speech." It came out with more of an edge than I'd intended. Dammit. Snapping at him for not lecturing me? I really had lost my mind.

  He thought it was funny. Laughing, he asked, "If we'd decided to send one of our Richmond-based assistants to Denson for the project, chances are they would have had their own floor of the rental cabin, right?" I muttered an agreement, knowing how close we'd come to doing just that. Both our assistants had family obligations that made it difficult to travel, though. "Something like that is not unusual for long business trips. And why would I bitch at you for doing something honorable for a friend? A year ago, it would have never occurred to you to step in. You would have been in full-on 'not my circus, not my monkeys' mode, never giving it a second thought. You really are being a friend to Ali." The humor left his voice when he said, "Not to be a condescending ass, but I'm proud of you."

  Much as I wanted to bust his balls for talking like a girl, I couldn't. I was surprisingly touched by the compliment. I'd never tell him that, though, it would just encourage the behavior. "Not necessarily condescending, but ass sounds about right."

  HAVING GIVEN SPENCER my word that I'd keep him informed about the break-in, I ended the call and fired off a quick text to Brant apologizing for missing our customary Sunday night strategy session. He replied almost immediately, as he usually did, dismissing my apology as unnecessary and suggesting we try for a mid-week reschedule.

  That was Brant, laid back and adaptable. Thank fuck for that.