by Chase, Nikki
“Yeah. He also said I was hired, although he didn’t tell me anything else about the job. I assumed he was going to explain everything to me when I see him here, at this address, which I thought was an office,” Emma says with confusion .
“You were . . . hired?” I frown .
“Yeah.”
“What’s the job again ?”
“Uh . . . Well, the job ad said it was just general admin work for a start-up,” she says .
As I realize what’s really happening, disappointment cools my blood. It’s like someone’s poured a bucket of ice and water over my head .
“Oh. You’re the new hire,” I say flatly. I remember now. Austin’s been going on and on about how we need an extra pair of hands to deal with the higher volume of sales we expect this holiday season .
“Yeah,” Emma says. “Can you tell me what’s going on? When am I going to see Fraser? Do you work for the same start-up ?”
Jesus, that’s a lot of questions from someone I’m not even supposed to sleep with .
I let out a big sigh, then I get off my bike and lean it on its kickstand. “I’m just a glorified delivery boy, but I can let you in .”
“Oh. So, this is something you and Fraser are doing together, then?” she asks, still with the same overly cheerful voice. She follows behind me as I approach the front door. “What is it that the start-up does ?”
“How long have you been waiting outside?” I ask, ignoring her questions .
“About half an hour,” Emma says .
“This isn’t really the weather to be standing outside in the cold.” I grab the house keys from inside my jacket pocket .
“Oh, I didn’t stand. I was sitting there.” She points at the raised step just outside our front door like that’s a big improvement .
“Right.” I stick the key in and open the door, holding it for her. “Come on in .”
“Good thing it didn’t rain, though,” Emma carries on. “At least, I’m still dry .”
I don’t even feel like telling her I could change that and make her wet, if she wants to .
“Yeah.” I close the door and walk down the hallway, Emma trailing behind me .
“So, do I start working now? Is there anything you need help with?” she asks. Apparently, she hasn’t gotten the message that I’m not interested in small talk .
“Look, I’m beat after spending all morning outside,” I tell her, stopping and turning around to look straight at her. “I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to join me, but I don’t know if your other new bosses will be happy about that. I’m kind of on probation .”
“On probation, like, from the cops?” she asks, eyes widened in surprise .
“No,” I sigh. When will the questions stop? “On probation, like, from my brothers. Just wait here and someone will show up who can help you .”
“Oh. Should I just . . . find somewhere to sit down, then ?”
“Yeah. Living room’s over there.” I point at an opening in the wall and keep walking down the hallway to get to my bedroom .
“Okay. So I’ll just wait there, I guess?” she says, her raised inflection indicative of yet another question .
I pull open my bedroom door. Finally. Almost on safe ground .
“Yeah,” I say. ”Sandy will probably come home soon. He’s the one in charge of strays .”
I shut the door and drop my heavy body into bed. As I close my eyes, I fantasize about dragging Emma in here with me and stripping her naked .
God, if only I hadn’t promised my brothers I’d stay out of trouble for the sake of our business .
Emma
W hat the . . .?
Did he just call me a “stray”? What did he mean by that? I feel like I should be offended, but really, I’m more confused .
Everything has been confusing, and nothing is turning out the way I expected it to last night .
I plop down on the couch. “Ouch.” When I lean back, my head hits something hard .
I look behind me to find a table between the back of the couch and the wall. The glass vases and animal figurines on the table wobble. But to my relief, nothing falls down or breaks .
Phew.
I wonder who else lives here, other than Ian and Fraser. The décor seems too well-thought-out for this place to be inhabited solely by a bunch of guys. Maybe there’s a woman—a girlfriend or even a wife .
Fraser didn’t mention anything about being married. Ian, on the other hand . . . By the way he was staring at me, I’m guessing he’s single. I mean, he asked me to join him in bed and everything .
I wouldn’t mind that, actually. I’ve never been one of those girls who sleep around; not even in college. I had boyfriends with whom I had sex, of course. And every once in a while, I had a no-strings-attached thing .
That was back in college, though .
When I was living at home, Ted kept me on a short leash. I couldn’t even come home late at night because it was unbecoming of a young, unmarried lady. As if it was the fifties .
I bristled under his tight control, but I endured it because I thought that was the only way for me to save Mom from his tyranny. What I didn’t know was, Mom didn’t need any saving .
What I’m trying to say is, I’m having the world’s longest dry spell .
It’s been more than two years since I graduated and moved back home, which means it’s been more than two years since I last got laid. I swear cobwebs must be forming down in my vajayjay .
I was already meaning to get some action in the city, so it’s not, like, an impulsive decision .
Also, as far as hook-ups go, Ian Archer is pretty much the gold standard .
If Fraser Archer was the school jock, Ian Archer was the bad boy. Every good girl in school secretly wanted him to corrupt her—including me. And seeing him now . . . I still do .
He’s still as intimidating as he always was. His dark eyes give him a mysterious allure. His dark hair, messy from being smushed down by his helmet, makes me want to comb through it with my fingers .
His cheekbones are so sharp they look like they could cut through diamonds. Despite the masculine frame, his lips are full and pouty like a woman’s .
Soft and hard. Alluring and threatening .
Add the big bike and the leather jacket, and Ian Archer becomes an irresistible bad boy .
Girls used to follow him around in high school, and I bet women still throw themselves at him even now .
I wonder what he means by being put on probation by his brothers .
Brothers. Plural. That means he wasn’t just talking about Fraser. He also mentioned Sandy, so I guess the three of them are doing this start-up thing together? I wonder if Austin and Hudson are, too .
“Eeek!” I shriek when something wet and cold touches the back of my hand. I pull all my limbs up onto the couch, hoping my scream hasn’t woken Ian .
I look down to find a little Yorkshire terrier with round eyes and fluffy brown-and-black hair .
“Oh, hey there, little . . . guy . . . or girl . . .” I gingerly reach down to pat the dog’s head, but he (or she) raises his head instead, touching his wet nose to my hand again. “You’re a quiet one, huh ?”
I realize there’s a rug on the wooden floor, just under the coffee table and the group of couches around it. It must’ve muffled the sound of the little Yorkie’s paws as he approached me .
With my free hand, I grasp the tag hanging from the dog’s collar. Rocky .
“So, you’re a boy, huh?” I pet his furry head, making him wag his tail with delight. “Good boy, Rocky .”
The tail wagging intensifies at the mention of his name, and he starts licking my fingers .
“You’re not a very good watchdog, are you? Are you allowed to get on the couch ?”
Rocky gives me a pleading look as he puts his front paws on my knees, demanding more petting .
“Okay, since you’ve been a good boy . . .” I lift my butt up and slide myself down onto the rug, c
rossing my legs. I laugh as Rocky promptly climbs up onto my lap and looks up at me expectantly. I swear the dog smiles when I start rubbing his back .
As I run my fingers over his silky fur, my tension melts away, and my stress levels take a dive. I draw a deep breath and allow my muscles to relax .
Even though Fraser told me I was hired, I came here this morning expecting an interview. Instead, I get propositioned by Ian Archer, of all people. And now, I’m sitting on the floor, petting a dog .
What a day .
Rocky curls up on my lap like he’s ready to take a nap—just like Ian. They say a dog and its owner are often very much alike .
“But you’re a good boy, aren’t you, Rocky?” I ask, scratching the spot behind his ears. “Your owner’s not a very nice guy, though . . . He’s sexy, but he’s also kind of a jerk .”
“Who is?” asks a masculine voice .
Sandy
T here’s something strange going on. I can tell as soon as I step foot inside the house .
Normally, Rocky runs out to meet me, tail wagging and mouth slobbering. I’d like to think he misses me—research certainly confirms the idea that dogs are capable of that—but he probably just hopes I have new treats for him .
I walk down the hallway, hoping nothing bad’s happened to him. Considering his age, it wouldn’t be strange for him to start having heart problems .
Maybe he’s merely stuck inside one of my brothers’ rooms. At least, I hope that’s the case .
Although Rocky is technically the family dog, he’s clearly mine in reality. I fill his bowl with food, give him treats, take him to the vet, and do all the other things dog owners do .
Adrenaline trickles into my bloodstream as I walk down the hallway. Rocky is still nowhere in sight .
As I peek into the living room, instead of Rocky, I find a stranger. I can see the back of a blonde head, leaning back against the cushion of the long couch. It’s a woman, and she’s sitting on the floor .
Also, she’s talking to herself .
I strain my ears to listen .
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Rocky?” she asks softly .
All at once, relief floods my system. Rocky is here, in the living room. Probably on the woman’s lap. He is extra friendly to strangers, especially when they’re female. Rocky may look cute, but he’s really just a dirty old man inside .
“Your owner’s not a very nice guy, though . . .” the woman says .
I wonder which one of my brothers she’s talking about .
Fraser regularly takes women home from the club and makes them leave in the morning. It’s possible she’s one of those women, only she’s refusing to simply go away .
Austin . . . Well, with his strong personality, he doesn’t really have to do anything for someone to get a bad impression about him. Not many people get close enough to see the kind, compassionate side of him .
It could be Ian, except he’s staying so far out of trouble he hasn’t even touched a girl in months .
Hudson’s a womanizer, but he’s also the nicest guy in San Francisco. Somehow, he manages to make his groupies remain fans, even though he sleeps with multiple women and never commits to anybody .
“He’s sexy,” the blonde continues, “but he’s also kind of a jerk .”
I can’t dam up my curiosity any longer—it’s a weakness that has cursed me to a lifetime of geekdom . . . which isn’t strictly a bad thing, actually. If it weren’t for my geekiness, we wouldn’t have been able to build an online business .
“Who is?” I ask .
The girl screams, startling Rocky awake. Suddenly, he turns into a guard dog, jerking up to his tiny paws and pricking up his furry ears. Then, he barks a pathetic little, high-pitched yelp .
Too late, buddy. If I were a robber, I’d be on my way out already. If I were a rapist, I’d be two seconds away from jamming a chloroform-soaked rag into her face .
Besides, what kind of self-respecting criminal would be intimidated by that half-hearted display of braggadocio ?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I say .
Rocky gives me a gracious little yap full of forgiveness before the actual person I‘m apologizing to finally finds me with her eyes .
Her big, blue, brilliant eyes .
When she focuses on me, it feels like a blinding ray from a lighthouse is shining straight at me .
“Oh that’s okay.” She stands up to her feet, forcing Rocky to get off her lap. He glares at me like he knows I’m the reason he’s no longer getting head scratches from this girl. She says, “I just . . . I didn’t see you there .”
“I . . . Um . . .” My voice comes out choked for some reason, and I have to clear my throat. I don’t know why, but she’s making me nervous. Who is this girl? I ask, “Did someone let you in ?”
“Uh, yeah. Ian did,” she says .
Oh, so she’s a guest of Ian’s? Strange. I thought Ian was being extra careful. He hasn’t even been bringing any girls home, even though nobody ever told him not to do that .
Maybe Ian really likes this one. He’s never had a serious girlfriend before, so that would be a pretty big departure from his usual behavior .
I wouldn’t be surprised, though. This girl’s pretty, with those doe eyes and plump, full lips .
Besides, Rocky likes her, so she must be special .
“Oh, Ian, huh?” I ask nonchalantly, ignoring the disappointment in my chest .
I was hoping she’d be single. My brothers do share women from time to time, but I’ve never been a part of that, nor do I think it’s a good idea when there are actual feelings involved .
The girl nods .
“Where is he now?” I ask again as I enter the living room. “Please, take a seat .”
“He’s taking a nap . . . I think.” She tucks her blonde hair behind her ear as she lowers her cute butt onto a couch .
“He brought you into the house and left you to sit here on your own?” I ask incredulously. Ian may not have the best manners, but this is no way to treat a guest .
“Oh, no, I’m not . . . Uh . . . I . . .” she stammers. “Ian just opened the door for me. That was it. I was waiting out there when he got home. I’d been waiting for a while and he let me in. Fraser had told me to come any time, so I thought . . . Um . . .”
“Fraser?” I ask .
So, she’s seeing both Ian and Fraser? It wouldn’t be the first time they share a girl . . .
“Yeah,” she says. “Fraser told me to . . . Uh . . . He sent me an email. He hired me and told me to come here. I just didn’t know this was a house and not an office .”
“Oh,” I say as realization dawns on me. “You’re the new hire .”
“Yeah,” she says .
Of course. I don’t know what came over me that I didn’t think of that possibility .
Naturally, Fraser just told her to show up any time, assuming I’d be home all day, and didn’t let me know about it .
“This is good .”
“What is?” she asks .
My face heats up when I realize I said that out loud. “Uh, it’s good that you’re here. We really need all the help we can get,” I say, covering for the fact that I’m actually glad I’m the first one to take an interest in this girl and we’ll probably get to spend a lot of time together .
“Great,” she says, smiling so sweetly I worry for my sugar levels. “Is there anything you need me to do ?”
“Now?” I ask as I suppress the urge to ask her to get naked and show me what she’s hiding underneath that black coat, but I’m not my brothers. I can think before I speak .
“Yeah. I’m here to work. So, put me to work,” she says again innocently, seemingly unaware of the dirty ideas she’s putting in my head .
“Um . . . How familiar are you with spreadsheets?” I ask .
“Very. I used to work with them all the time,” she says confidently .
I wonder if maybe Fraser did good with the hiring after
all, even if he just picked this girl out of a random selection of emails .
It’s annoying how little effort he has to put into anything, but I guess it’s good to have someone with dumb luck on our team. Even the latest research says luck plays a big role in reaching success .
“Great. Follow me,” I say .
As we pass through empty, quiet rooms, all I can think about is how we’re technically alone—except for Ian, of course, but he’s probably asleep .
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” I say as I hold the door into the home office open for her .
“I didn’t tell you my name, Sandy,” she says, holding out a hand. “I’m Emma. Look forward to working with you .”
My heart stops when my name slides out from between those beautiful lips. How does this angel even know my name ?
Emma
“H ave we met?” Sandy asks, the thick eyebrows over his dark eyes knitted in confusion .
Silly me. Of course, Sandy Archer doesn’t know my name. He obviously doesn’t remember me .
Hell, even back when we were going to the same school, he probably didn’t notice me either, so why should things be different now ?
“Oh, right. I didn’t mention it before, but we used to go to the same school,” I say .
Sandy tilts his head slightly, making strands of his dark hair tumble over his forehead. As they poke his eyes, he slicks them back with his hand. “We did ?”
“Yeah. In Rockvale.” I add, “We were in the same grade. Had calculus together .”
I almost slap myself in the face for giving away the fact that I remember way too many details .
Great. Why not tell him I know his exact height and shoe size, too? He’ll think I’ve been stalking him for the past decade .
Luckily, Sandy doesn’t seem to think it’s creepy. Or maybe he’s just being polite .
“I’m sorry I don’t remember,” he says, regret filling his dark eyes as he levels his sharp gaze at me. He’s so tall it must strain his neck to look at me like this .
Sandy used to be a lanky kid, and he’s filled out somewhat, but he remains slender. He’s definitely no gym rat, but his white T-shirt shows me hints of the muscles on his broad back, and his arms look like they can effortlessly pick me up—not that he’s about to do that, as much as I wish he would .
