Alphas Prefer Curves

by Unknown

  “And?” Anger simmered inside her.

  Galvez’s nostrils flared. Disgust lit his eyes. Figures. He had never been the type for warm and cuddly conversations. And the last thing Cynthia expected was for him to encourage employee relationships. “He isn’t normal. He’s… He’s—”

  “I know exactly what he is. If I were you, I’d be very careful what you say about him.” She snapped her mouth shut to keep from adding anything that could, and would get her fired. Dammit, she’d just started the job.

  She yanked on the handle to her car. The metal creaked as it opened. Galvez placed a hand on the top of the door, stopping her from moving it further.

  “Look, Cici—”

  “Don’t!” She hissed. “Only my family calls me that. You’re my superior. Don’t get it confused. My accepting your job offer doesn’t make us friends. It doesn’t make us buddies. It just makes me your employee.”

  “I’d like to think of us as more than just employer-employee. Possibly move things to where they should be between us.” His facial lines smoothed out. There was concern in his eyes for a flash of a second. Then an iciness entered his gaze as she shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. All we’ll ever be is co-workers. Don’t confuse yourself.” She met Galvez’s stare with her own angry glare. He should know by now that intimidation wouldn’t work on her. Being raised by her grandmother, because her father had been missing in action, had toughened her up. Especially when her mother was more trouble than she wanted to think about. When her family’s reality finally hit her, some hard choices had to be made. And the result had been losing the only man she’d loved.

  Galvez’s brow puckered. “If you can’t handle working with Brock, for whatever reason, just tell me. I won’t hold it against you.”

  Yeah, she just bet he wouldn’t. He’d recruited her as a test. To see her fail. She knew what he was after, but she wouldn’t give it to him. He’d come to her. Right now, she had the upper hand. An upper hand she wasn’t willing to lose.

  Her gaze strayed past Galvez to the ambulance where the child was taken. A paramedic shut the doors. It took off, sirens wailing. The thickness she’d felt growing at her throat expanded. Fuck. She had to hold it together or Galvez would see her as nothing more than a weakling.

  “What happened to the suspect?”

  His question brought her attention to his face.

  “When I entered the house from the back, he was in the kitchen.” She gulped at the memory of the man, of what he’d been doing.

  “And?”

  She ground her teeth. “And he was sharpening some large butcher knives, happily singing a song about making stew. Kyler stew. There. Are you happy?”

  Galvez’s unwavering gaze was stuck on her face. She tried not to flinch, knowing that any sign of discomfort would be seen as a weakness. She inhaled slowly, mentally preparing herself for the torture of reviewing what just happened.

  “He’d already started a fire in the kitchen. Stood there sharpening those knives. All the while, the flames spread through the place.” Her stomach clenched. Oxygen had frozen in her lungs. She’d seen the man light himself on fire when he’d seen her. “He walked to the blaze taking up one side of the kitchen. And just stood there. Burning.”

  She still had a hard time believing what she’d seen. The maniac had continued to sing while he burned. That song. She’d have a hard time sleeping remembering the stupid song. It had made cold fingers of dread crawl up her spine.

  “And the kid?”

  She took a breath. Let it out slowly. “She was tied up to a tub filled with water. The entire house started to collapse around me. By the time I reached her most of it was on fire.” She gripped the door handle. Although it bothered her to have to go through what just happened, she knew it was procedure. Plus, she’d have to write it out on her report anyway. “I ran to the other room, grabbed a blanket, cut her binds, wet myself, shoved the blanket into the tub, wrapped it around her and got her out.” She swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat. “End of story.”

  Thoughts kept whirling around her mind of all the possible things she could have found in that house. None of them good. She needed to go home. Right now. She was too raw. The throbbing in her chest since she’d first laid eyes on the child hadn’t dissipated yet. Too many emotions were clogging up her throat. Seeing that little girl tied up was like getting stabbed in the gut. Absolute hell. Kyler’s pale green eyes had been filled with fear. Watching the drenched six-year-old shaking, her lips turning purple from the icy water almost broke her. Jesus. But this was her job. She was damn good at it and no amount of stress on a case—or her pathetic excuse of a personal life—was going to make her give it up.

  “Are you sure you’ll be fine working with Brock and his team?” Galvez asked. There was annoyance in the way he asked the question. Not concern. Never concern. That simply added to her rising temper.

  She was tired. Tired of having to be the responsible one in her family. Of giving up everything she’d ever wanted. And she was especially tired of Galvez and his condescension. “Did you want me to promise that in blood or something?” His dark skin turned mottled with anger. Too bad. “I already said I’m fine. Now let me go home and let me do my job. I can handle Brock. And his team.”

  Galvez stepped away, giving her space to slide into the car. He continued to watch her. Her muscles felt tight from the tension of the past hour. The engine’s roar was music to her ears. Galvez dropped down to eye level. Fuck. She thought he was done.

  “I won’t have you or him messing with the plans I have in the Bureau.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek hard, until she swore she tasted blood. Then she counted to ten before finally answering him.

  “I know what it is you want.” She’d been informed he was gunning for a high-ranking position. “I don’t really care about it. That’s your problem.” She gripped the wheel, staring into his angry dark gaze. “But I think you should know, that you won’t ever be allowed to lead the FPU. It’s why they made you hire me.” She smiled coldly. “You see, you need to be paranormal to lead that team. It’s why I’m reporting to the head of the Bureau directly.”

  “I don’t care what you think you know. I want to make sure that you are able to handle this. I’ll have the group reporting to me at some point,” he growled.

  She shook her head. “No. You won’t. I know you’ve tried. You can’t lead a special team.” She shifted gears, put the car in reverse, and hit the accelerator. Tires squealed. Galvez rushed off in order to not be run over. She stopped, turned the wheel and put it in drive. “You know why you can’t lead a special team, Galvez?”

  He stood there motionless. Watching her. His face clear of all emotions but the usual anger she’d come to know well.

  “Because you’re not special.”

  Chapter Two

  Cynthia arrived at her small house exhausted. Now that everything was over with, and they’d gotten the child out alive, the adrenaline she’d been working with made a sudden disappearing act. On her way to the bathroom, she dropped soaked articles of clothing on the pristine dark-wood floor. A bath was a must. Her nerves were fried. She kept visualizing Kyler’s wide green eyes staring at her. She bit her lip and tamped down the urge to cry. Stupid emotions.

  The minute she reached the bathroom, she filled the tub with warm water and some of her favorite Jasmine scented bubble bath. She slid out of her underwear and lit the scented candles lining the large tub. It was the main reason she’d bought that house. The bathroom was twice the size of the guest bedroom, but she didn’t care. Besides, nobody visited her anyway.

  She glanced at her body as she passed the bathroom mirror. Not one to pay her curves a second notice, she stopped for a second. The only time she’d ever noticed her body had been back in college. Not that she’d been self-conscious of her curves. She was a big girl and she knew it. Hell, she liked it. Whoever didn’t could kiss her ass and keep it moving. Still,
only in college had ever noticed her femininity. It was all his fault.

  He’d seen her naked and gave her self-esteem the boost she’d never thought she needed. He’d lovingly told her how much he adored her hips, her ass, her thighs. He’d said being cushioned by her soft body was like being in heaven. She blinked and sighed. He had made the curvy woman on the outside along with the carefree girl on the inside fall head over heels for him. Until she’d broken the dream.

  Her mind wandered as she slipped into the bubbly water. James Brock. Her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing him. She knew she would, but hadn’t been ready for the visual assault on her senses. He looked much better than he had when they’d been twenty-two and in love. She sighed, sunk further into the water, and dropped her head on the white towel she’d placed behind her neck. Ten years. Lord had those years been good to him. He’d toned his body and defined muscles.

  God. She’d missed him so much.

  He still wore his dark hair short and spiky. Exactly the way she’d told him to cut it for her pleasure. Memories of their time together assailed her brain. He’d been her world. Until her reality had shattered. Raw pain pierced her heart. She hadn’t stopped loving him. Never would. But what she’d done, it had been for the best. He wanted something she couldn’t give him. And if history repeated itself, she wouldn’t put him through a future filled with misery.

  She closed her eyes. Saw James’ dark piercing ones staring at her. Guilt assailed her. There’d been shock and anger in his face when he’d first seen her. How would he react when he knew she was his new boss? She licked her lips. He’d probably quit on the spot. Her mind drifted to images of his naked body from ten years ago. Hell, his new body was a lot better filled out. His tattoos probably still looked just as mouthwatering on him now as they did then. They’d been one of the main reasons a good girl like Cynthia Vega would date such bad boy.

  Brock. That’s how he’d introduced himself the first time they’d met. She’d been going home alone after a party, and some guys tried to get fresh with her. She smiled at the memory. Though she would have been able to handle the pathetic boys, it’d been incredibly romantic for him to come to her rescue. That one night had changed her life. The moment their eyes met, an instant connection had taken place. And she knew that he was the only man for her.

  Love at first sight. Yeah right. She’d been the first skeptic, until she’d felt all kinds of emotions rush through her body and center in her heart the moment James held her hand up to his lips and kissed it.

  Now, here she was playing the role of his boss. She couldn’t let their past interfere with the FPU’s future. Galvez would tear the group to shreds if he knew of her past with Brock. But damn it all, James looked better in real life than in every dream she’d had of him for the past ten years. His full lips were still just as sexy. Even with the way he formed them into an angry straight line. The clean-shaven look was new. She missed the scruffy beard he used to keep. Though now she’d seen his clenched jaw and had a good view of the vein throbbing on the side of his cheek.

  After the water turned cold, she got out and dressed in boxer shorts and a tank top. The brown wooden box at the bottom of her closet called her attention through the open doors. She placed the memory keeper on top of her bed and rummaged through her past. College photos of her and James picnicking at the park and at the beach sat at the top of the pile.

  The photo book of her childhood came out next. She wasn’t going to look at that. A smile worked her lips. Hand-made cards. James had always been romantic. Detailed. He didn’t buy cards. He’d made them for her. Always using something to make her think of a special moment they’d had together. At the bottom of the box, she found the photo of the night he’d proposed. Her throat closed up on her.

  Remembering how happy that single act of him getting on his knee and asking her to marry him at their favorite spot by the lake made her heart thunder in her chest. Her eyes focused on a single crinkled sheet of paper, yellowed from the years, under the photo. It was her reminder of why she’d left him.

  “You plan on coming to eat or what?”

  She shrieked, almost got whiplash with how fast she looked up. Dropped everything and slapped a hand on her chest. “Frickin’ A, Tonya!”

  “What?” Tonya’s brown eyes sparkled with laughter.

  Her best friend and neighbor loved walking in unannounced.

  “Don’t try to act all innocent. You almost gave me a heart attack!” She shut the box and carried it to her closet.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you keep forgetting pizza night.”

  She had forgotten. Again. Every Wednesday was pizza night. Tonya picked it up on her way home from the dental office where she was a receptionist. Since she had a spare key to Cyn’s place, she let herself in.

  Cyn followed behind Tonya toward the delicious scent of garlic, sauce, and pepperoni. Her stomach chose that moment to growl.

  “Damn, girl! Was that your stomach?” Tonya jumped away from her. “Let’s feed you already. Before you decide to take a bite out of me.”

  “Hah. Real funny,” Cyn muttered.

  The pizza box lay on the middle of her coffee table with some glasses filled with wine.

  “Tonya, you know I don’t drink during the week.” But really, who cared about that nonsense right now? With the day she’d had, she could use a whole bottle. Or two. She brought the wine glass straight to her lips and took a big gulp.

  “I know. I just figured with the rescue you did tonight, I think you earned that glass girlfriend.” Tonya handed her a slice of gooey heaven on a paper plate.

  “Thanks.” She took a bite and sighed.

  “Glad to see something bring a smile to your face.” Tonya’s shrewd gaze was a little nerve wracking. Though she was old enough to be Cyn’s mother, they got along better than she ever had with any of her friends her age. Tonya came from a gypsy line who believed in karma, and she was constantly telling Cyn stories of the different colors she saw on people out in the street.

  “I’m fine. I’ve just had a long day.”

  “I saw.”

  Cyn lifted her brows.

  “The news. Guess you didn’t notice but they arrived to cover the fire just as you were leaving. They showed a quick scan of the area. I caught a glimpse of you taking off, leaving the big guy pissed as hell.”

  Shit. She hated being in the news. The headache she’d been fighting, which had slowly started to drain away, made a comeback.

  “I saw James tonight,” she said softly.

  “I know.”

  Dammit. She hated when Tonya did that whole seeing the future shit. She sucked at her own ability. How was it that Tonya could do it better than her?

  “Go on,” Cyn groaned. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Honey, I’ve tried to tell you that James will love you for the rest of his life. There is no other woman for him.”

  “This isn’t about love.” If it were something that simple, it’d be easy. But it wasn’t. Loving him and wanting to see him happy was the reason she’d left.

  “All you need is love,” Tonya sing-songed.

  She sat back and continued to eat. “Not all the time. Anyway, my relationship with James is in the past.”

  Tonya choked on her wine. Her laughter bounced around the walls of the small house. She combed her fingers through her short blonde hair, all the while grinning unrepentantly.

  “How can you say that? You’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. He’s loved you the same. You’re together again.” She lifted her brows. “Working together.”

  Cyn rolled her eyes. “It’s a group. It’s not like it’s just me and him. Besides, from what I saw tonight, I bet he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.”

  Unfortunately, for big, sexy, angry James Brock, she had a job to do. And he was part of it.

  * * *

  Brock studied his laptop screen, trying to make sense of the notes he’d taken for his report, but unable t
o concentrate. Fuck. Ten years. She’d left and said nothing for ten years. Her last message to him was to tell him not to look for her. That she couldn’t marry him. A familiar dull ache filled his chest.

  Soft knocking jerked him out of his trance. He glanced up. Their gazes met and held. Her. For a moment, they stared at each other, unmoving.

  Cyn turned the knob and entered into his private space. The soft scent of jasmine immediately dug into his lungs. He didn’t want to like it. Didn’t want to bury his nose in her neck and inhale hard. So damn hard he’d feel the animal under his skin fighting to let loose.

  He grit his teeth and frowned instead. “What can I do for you, Vega?”

  She lifted a brow. He watched her torture her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment before she finally spoke. “I guess you’ve heard, huh?” She shifted in her pantsuit, as if uncomfortable.

  “Heard?”

  Her hazel eyes turned a greenish color. Not the aroused gold.

  “That bastard!” The green showed off her anger. “I should have known he wouldn’t tell you,” she muttered and started pacing the confines of his office. “No, leave it to me to have to break the bad news. Asshole!”

  “What news?” He loved watching her curvy body move around his office in that pantsuit. Hell that outfit fit like it’d been made for her, and it probably had been since she always complained she never found clothes that fit right. If they fit her hips, then everything was too big around the waist. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d started having things tailor-made.

  She stopped. “Okay, so here it is.” She visibly gulped and gripped one of his chairs. “I’m your new boss.”

  He sat back, waiting for her to say gotcha or some other phrase when one was being played a prank on.

  “Honey, I report to Thomas Wheeler. Head of the Bureau.”

  She shook her head. Long dark curls bounced around her shoulders and arms. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Her brows dipped. “No. You. Don’t.”

  “Look, I don’t know what Galvez has been telling you, but—”