Barely Breathing

by Brenda Rothert

  I glanced at his crotch, unable to help myself. The large bulge resting against his thigh told me he wanted more as much as I did. I tried not to smile, but the urge won out.

  He saw, and a smile crept onto his lips, too.

  “Goodnight,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.

  He held my gaze for one more delicious second and then turned to go. I watched him, my grin getting bigger as he hustled down the steps and into the waiting car. Len clapped him on the shoulder as he slid in and closed the door.

  I pushed my door shut and locked the deadbolt, leaning against it and sighing happily. Next Friday night couldn’t come soon enough.

  I SCANNED THE EMAILS IN my inbox and sighed. Monday was hitting hard already. I’d answered some emails from home over the weekend, but I still had eleven that I needed my work files to answer.

  After a fortifying sip of my latte, I got started. It took a conscious effort to stop my mind from wandering to the Friday night kiss. I’d been smiling over it all weekend–even when I was cleaning and working out.

  “Look at you,” Cara said, walking into my office and sitting down in a chair in front of the desk. “Smiling on a Monday morning? It has to be because the date went well.”

  “It did.” I met her eyes across my desk and smiled wider.

  “You told me almost nothing in your texts. So start at the beginning and tell me everything.”

  “I would, but I have lots of emails to get out before I go to court.”

  Cara arched a brow, amused. “You want me to leave?”

  “Can we go to lunch later and I’ll tell you then?”

  She stood and shrugged. “Alright.”

  As soon as she closed the door to my office, I went back to the emails. One of my clients had sent me a lengthy message about his ex-wife being ten minutes late to drop off their children Saturday morning. I shook my head as I responded, wondering how he was going to feel about getting billed for this.

  Part of me wished Kane had texted over the weekend, but he didn’t strike me as a cutesy message sender. I grinned as I imagined a text from him. It would say something like how the fuck are you?

  He wasn’t one of those guys who busted ass in the gym to look like a badass; he actually was one. I’d known that the moment I saw him take Eric on in the alley. Kane’s fearlessness was one of the things I liked best about him.

  I forced my attention away from thoughts of his dark, intense gaze and back to my emails. By nine-thirty, they were all caught up and I was on my way to court in a cab. I only had one quick hearing, but I had to wait almost an hour for it.

  The courthouse was full of suited attorneys looking fresh and ready to take the week on. I felt it, too. Hunger was essential to success for new attorneys in New York. Even the established ones at my firm earned their money with long hours.

  Usually I was all about work on Monday mornings. But today my thoughts kept drifting to my intimate dinner with Kane. We could’ve eaten at a crowded McDonald’s and it would’ve felt intimate if he’d looked at me like he did Friday night. He listened when I talked, silently taking me in with that dark chocolate gaze.

  By the time we sat down at a downtown deli for lunch, I was dying to talk to Cara about the date.

  “Were you lying when you said you didn’t sleep with him?” she asked. “You know I won’t think less of you if you did.”

  I lowered my brows at her and finished a bite of my club sandwich. “I wouldn’t lie about it. He kissed me at my door and left.”

  “Huh.”

  “What? Why do you look so surprised? It’s not like I’m a whore or something, Cara.”

  She gave me an apologetic look. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean . . . I’m not surprised because of that.”

  “Then what?”

  She shrugged. “He just seems like that kind of guy.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “He seems like a guy who’s looking to get laid after he takes a woman out for dinner.”

  I glared at her, offended on Kane’s behalf. “And you base that on what, exactly? You only met him for a few seconds.”

  “I base it on my inner radar, which is pretty damn accurate. When you meet a guy at a club and he looks like that, he’s usually not looking for anything serious.”

  Cara was sometimes too opinionated. I reminded myself of that, but still, irritation made me continue the conversation.

  “Looks like what? And he’s one of the club owners, by the way.”

  “Oh.”

  “Not that it matters. I would’ve wanted to go out with him even if he was a bouncer.”

  “He just looks . . . rough.” Cara shrugged again. “With the tats and that scowl. You should try to get him in bed, ‘cause I bet he’s amazing.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said wryly.

  Cara set her sandwich down and gave me a serious look. “Viv, I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re looking for a husband, and this guy doesn’t seem like your type.”

  “I am not looking for a husband. I’m looking for a relationship.”

  “Which will lead to marriage.”

  “Okay, eventually, yes. But in all the time I’ve been here, I’ve gone on lots of dates and I’ve never felt this way.”

  “You felt this way before that asshole Eric cornered you in the alley.”

  I shook my head. “I thought Eric seemed promising. He checked all my boxes. But Kane . . . he checks none of them. I feel something different with him. It’s like I’m drawn to him for reasons I don’t fully understand yet. I know he’s strong and honest and that means so much more than any of the stuff I thought I wanted in a man.”

  “After one date?”

  “And one alley rescue.”

  Cara furrowed her brow. “Do you think you’ve put him on a pedestal because of that?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe. I just know that I’ve been looking forward to seeing him again since a few seconds after he left Friday night. It feels really good.”

  “Just be careful.”

  I laughed at her big sister tone. “Don’t worry about me. What about you? What’d you do over the weekend?”

  She shrugged and looked down at her plate. “Just went to the club Friday night.”

  “What club? Six?”

  “Yeah. I met someone there that night with you and we hung out.”

  “Good. Do I get to hear more about it?”

  “Not yet. I don’t want to jinx it.”

  That was unlike Cara. Her innermost secrets usually poured out of her. I said nothing, but my curiosity was piqued.

  We walked back to our office after lunch, the fall breeze blowing our hair and making us button up our wool coats. I loved fall in New York. The bright colors of changing leaves and crisp air signaled time for flannel pajamas and hearty soups.

  “Busy afternoon?” Cara asked me as we rode the elevator up to our floor.

  “Two meetings. Not bad,” I said. “You?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have my evaluation today.”

  “You’ll get a good one.”

  “I hope. My billable hours are pretty kickass.” She reached for my arm as we stepped off the elevator, her lips parting with interest. “Viv, who is that?”

  A tall, fit man with short dark hair was leaning over the desk of Samantha, one of our paralegals, giving her a smile that was literally making her eyelashes flutter. I was embarrassed for her.

  “That’s my brother,” I said to Cara. “I don’t know what he’s doing here.”

  I approached and Samantha gave me a look that said go away.

  “Grayson,” I said as he turned and hugged me. “Did you do something requiring legal representation?”

  He laughed and squeezed me tighter. “Not today, sis. You got a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  He followed me into my tiny office and I closed the door.

  “Private office,” he said appreciatively. “Nice.”


  “Right. Not quite as nice as yours, I’m betting.”

  Grayson was three years older than me, and I’d followed him to New York after he took off in in his position at an investment banking firm. We didn’t get to spend much time together, but it was nice having a family member close by.

  “So what’s up?” I asked, sitting down in my desk chair.

  “Something’s gotta be up for me to come see my little sister?”

  He was trying for a light tone, but his gaze was darting around my office. He looked nervous, which was very unlike my confident, successful brother.

  “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” I said.

  He let out a deep exhale. “I really hate to ask, but I need to borrow some money.”

  I forced myself not to let my shock show. Grayson made much better money than me. I assumed he was loaded, but apparently not.

  “Okay. How much?”

  Another exhale. “Maybe five hundred?”

  His tone was so hopeful that I reached into my purse immediately and took out my checkbook. “Sure, no problem.”

  “Thanks, Viv. I’ll pay you back soon.”

  “What’s going on, Grayson? Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Just a short-term crunch is all. Made a bad investment.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” I tore off the check and passed it across my desk to him.

  “Positive. Hey, wish I could stay, but you’ve probably got work to do, and I need to get back to the office myself.”

  We both stood and he came around the desk to hug me again.

  “Thanks again,” he said, tucking the check into his pocket. “I’ll get you something extra nice for Christmas this year.”

  I groaned skeptically. “You set the bar pretty low last year with that shirt that said ‘you can’t afford me’.”

  “It’s true,” he said, turning his charming smile on me. “You’re too good for almost all the men out there.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I’ll call you,” he said, waving and heading for my door. It was all I could do not to run after him and pry for more information.

  My afternoon wasn’t consumed by thoughts of my date with Kane, but by worry for my brother. What was this bad investment, and how much had it cost him?

  Kane

  THE LEMONY SMELL OF DISINFECTANT wafting into the room could only mean one thing–Joe was cleaning the gym. That meant it was early.

  I cracked my eyes to check my bedside alarm clock. Seven-fifteen. I’d only been asleep for three hours. But I slept like shit most of the time anyway.

  I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Joe would be knocking on my door to clean my place in a few hours. It was a perk of living in the back room of the gym I owned.

  This small space was all I needed, and it saved me a mint on New York rent costs. I’d renovated the storage room into a one-room apartment complete with a small kitchen, table and chairs, couch, TV and king-size bed. The bathroom was the only separate space. I had my own door to get outside and often didn’t even see the guy who rented the gym space and ran it.

  But Joe, I liked to see. He cleaned early, before the gym was open for the day. I pulled on sweats and a t-shirt and went out to the huge open room that housed weights, workout equipment and a boxing ring. Joe was wiping down the weight benches with a wet cloth when he saw me.

  “Morning, Kane.” He nodded and went back to work.

  “Mornin’, Joe. What’s the good word?”

  “My Yankees aren’t in the World Series,” he said, his thin shoulders sagging. “That’s all I know.”

  I sat down at a weight bench and lifted the bar. “Can’t win ‘em all, man.”

  He grunted his disagreement with that sentiment.

  “I went out with someone Friday night,” I said, curling the bar.

  “Oh yeah?” He turned my way, his thick gray brows arched with interest. “Is she pretty?”

  “Beautiful. And smart. She’s got it all going on.”

  “Good. You deserve someone like that.”

  “I don’t know about that.” I set the bar back in its spot and stretched my arms. “And it’s not like I can bring her to my storage room apartment.”

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “It’s pretty unimpressive.”

  “Any woman who turns her nose up at your home ain’t worth a shit.” Joe pointed at me. “You remember that, Kane.”

  “I know. It’s not just that. She’s a lawyer. Can you imagine me with a lawyer? One who’s not representing me for something, I mean?” I laughed.

  “Course I can. You’re a businessman.”

  At my single note of amused laughter, he turned a serious glare my way. I sighed and got up, sitting down at another bench. Lifting weights always cleared away a shitty mood.

  I was already feeling the pressure of my upcoming second date with Viv. I’d liked the first one a lot more than I’d expected to.

  Dating was for pretentious fucks; I’d always told myself that. Kinda like wine tasting and antiquing. Not my things. But having Viv across from me at a dark restaurant Friday night had been damn nice. Seeing her all dressed up and happy had made me feel like I’d done something right for once.

  I still couldn’t believe I’d managed to walk away after that kiss. My control had slipped away as I tasted her and felt her soft curves pressed against me. For a second I’d considered her offer to come inside.

  But that would’ve been it. I’d have pressed her against a wall and had my way with her. She was better than that.

  If the guys at the club knew I’d taken a woman to dinner and left after a goodnight kiss, I’d never hear the end of it. I’d just have to make sure they never found out. Even though I’d met Viv at the club, I felt like a different man when I was with her than I did when I was at work.

  She didn’t know about my past and she wasn’t trying to get anything from me. Everyone at the club wanted a piece of me, even though most of them knew better than to fuck with me. If they didn’t know, they learned.

  Most people had wariness in their eyes when they looked at me. Only Jeff, Rosie and Len didn’t. Even Rosie and Len regarded me with a healthy amount of respect.

  But Viv’s eyes were open when they met mine. Bright blue and wide open like an endless ocean. And I wanted more. Needed it, actually. I’d endure as many fittings with the tailor and evenings in fancy restaurants as she’d allow me.

  I wanted more of that look from her. More of her soft inhale as she ran her palm up my chest. More of her wide smile that made my heart jump. More of the body I’d lusted after as I followed her up the stairs to her brownstone and kissed her.

  After I lifted weights and took a shower, I took off so Joe could clean my place without me underfoot. I dragged my ass back to the tailor and ordered more clothes and another pair of shoes. Then I stopped by the club and got the bag with the American Girl stuff in it and took it to the fancy women’s boutique in the same block as the club.

  “Kane.” The owner of the boutique, Vicki, gave me a kiss on each cheek as soon as I walked in. Then she reached around and squeezed my ass. “How are you, darling?”

  “Uh . . . good.”

  I avoided eye contact. Vicki was a cougar and she’d pounce if I gave her a chance to. She was in her late fifties and had been trying to get me in bed since the first time we met.

  “Another . . . package for me?” She licked her lips as she said the word package and I thought about walking back out the door.

  But I couldn’t handle this myself. I put the bag between us to fend off her advance.

  “Yeah. Just like last time. Wrap it all . . . pink or whatever. And ship it to the same address.”

  “Sure thing. Will you come in for some coffee?”

  “Can’t, I’ve got an appointment. Just invoice me at the club.”

  A grin spread across her face. “No charge, sw
eetie. You can just owe me one.”

  I shook my head. “Bill me.”

  “Fine.” She tucked her platinum blond hair behind her ear and looked me over from head to toe. “Come see me anytime, Kane.”

  “Thanks, Vicki.”

  I left the boutique and caught a cab back home, the lemony smell of Joe’s work greeting me as soon as I opened the steel door that led from an alley into my small home. After another hour of sleep, I showered, dressed and headed into work.

  A buzz of energy circulated through the staff as they gathered for our pre-open meeting. There were no down nights here, even during the week. In New York City, every night was cause for a party to someone.

  My gaze skimmed across staff uniforms, the freshly mopped sealed stone floor and the polished dark wood of the round bar in the center of the club’s main level.

  “Looks good, guys,” I said. “We’ve got a full house upstairs tonight, so I need you sharp and fast.”

  “Did you fire Lizette?” a female voice in the back of the group called.

  “Since when do I discuss something like that at a floor meeting?” I barked at the hidden speaker.

  The low murmur of chatter stopped cold and a couple people turned her way with disdainful expressions.

  “Anyone who thinks they’re being left out of shit that’s their business at this club knows where my office is,” I said. “Now get moving.”

  Everyone scattered to finish last-minute work before open. Cash drawers would be opened and salt and pepper shakers topped off. In about an hour our early after-work crowd would start flowing in.

  For whatever reason, Jeff wanted to go over the club’s financials with me. Our four business partners had gotten reports and he thought I should be knowledgeable about what we were earning and spending. I sat through two hours of boring shit in his office, sighing with relief when he finally told me we were done.

  “We’re tearing it up, Kane. This is exciting stuff. Don’t you care that we’ve more than doubled our projections for profit this quarter?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I care. But you could’ve summarized it instead of showing me all those fuckin’ charts and graphs.”