Author: Roni Loren
But he figured the whole hating-his-guts thing would probably get in the way of her accepting his invitation. If time was supposed to heal all, Brynn definitely hadn’t gotten the memo. The fury that had flared in those green irises of hers could’ve set his suit on fire. Unfortunately, sharing air with the sexy blonde again had set other things aflame as well. His dick had jumped to attention like a soldier reporting for duty.
And he wasn’t even going to acknowledge the little flip his heart had performed in his chest. Stupid.
It’d been a few years since he’d seen her, ten since he’d touched her, but he remembered the feel of her curves and the taste of her skin as if he’d been buried inside her luscious body yesterday. He yanked at his collar, his tie suddenly feeling like a noose. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to take Cooper up on his offer of cheap rent in exchange for some pro bono work. He’d hesitated when he’d seen Brynn’s name listed on the brochure for the crisis center, but he’d figured he’d be immune to the woman by now. Plus, the deal had been too good to pass up. But now that he’d seen her again, he couldn’t deny that the residue of his old attraction still clung to his bones. Fuck me.
“Well, boys, I’m off,” Melody said, dragging Reid’s attention back to the two people standing beside him. “These shoes were made for dancing and the night’s almost over.”
Cooper turned to him after Melody traipsed off. “Man, you look like you need a beer.”
Reid’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he gave his friend a half-smile. “You have no idea.”
Coop got the bartender’s attention, ordered two Shiner Bocks, and handed one to Reid. They moved away from the busy bar, but remained on the fringes of the milling crowd. His friend took a swig of his beer, then nodded in the direction of Brynn’s table. “So what’s the deal with you two?”
Reid shook his head. “Long story. Shitty ending.”
He chuckled. “I’m guessing there was nakedness involved. I’ve never seen her look so horrified to see someone. Although, I’m having trouble imagining the two of you dating. Brynn’s, uh, not exactly into guys like us.”
Reid eyed his friend. “Guys like us?”
Cooper gave him a wry smile. “The bossy type. I know it’s been a while, but I doubt you’ve changed that much since college.”
Reid absentmindedly rubbed the spot on his finger where a ring used to be. No, some things couldn’t be changed, no matter how hard he’d tried. Too bad he hadn’t figured that out before he’d married a woman who thought he was some kind of deviant for wanting to take control in the bedroom.
“I guess you’re right.” However, Cooper’s assessment of Brynn confused him. Back when he’d known her, she’d been exactly the kind of girl for his flavor of kink.
Coop pointed his bottle at him. “Well, I don’t know what’s between you two, but I suggest you clear out that old stuff quick. The last thing we need at the crisis center is drama between the employees. Believe me, our clients provide enough of that.”
Reid gave a curt nod. “I’ll take care of it.”
Now he just had to figure out how. This was supposed to be his fresh start, both from his failed marriage and from the stress of working in his family’s high-profile practice. Tiptoeing around Brynn and being on edge at work were not part of the agenda. He’d done enough eggshell walking over the past few years to last him a lifetime. That stopped now.
The way he saw it, she’d ripped his heart out ten years ago and then he’d let her down during her mother’s trial—they should be even. So whether she liked it or not, the two of them were going to dump their ugly history on the table and deal with it.
Based on previous experience, that kind of discussion would either end up in a screaming fight or a screaming fuck. Regardless, he wasn’t waiting until Monday to have it with her. To hell with her date—and her vibrator. There would only be one guy driving Ms. LeBreck home tonight.
TWO
ten years earlier
Brynn fought the urge to roll her eyes as the other girls in the campaign office fawned over the senator-to-be’s nephew. Reid had only been in the building for ten minutes and already her fellow coeds had provided him with cupfuls of coffee and an eyeful of cleavage. Not that Reid looked like he minded. He leaned back in his desk chair and graced the two women with his sly smile, holding court.
Brynn shook her head. Must be nice to have things handed to you without having to work for it. College paid for, a cushy summer job, and designer jeans that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe—all because you were lucky enough to win the family lottery.
She dropped her gaze back to the pink notepad in front of her and scribbled down the message from the phone call she’d taken a few minutes earlier. She tore off the sheet and put it on the growing stack of “while you were out” notes for Davis Ackerman, the campaign manager. Her neck ached from cradling the phone to her ear all morning, but she wasn’t going to complain. This new receptionist gig sure beat running the register at the Chicken Fried Chick down the street. She’d take sore muscles over hair that smelled like fryer grease any day.
The sound of a throat clearing made her raise her head. Reid propped his hip on the edge of her desk and peered down at her, his dark blue eyes analyzing her. “Brynn, right?”
She sat straighter in her chair in an attempt to look more professional. “Yes, sir. Brynn LeBreck.”
His mouth curled at the corner. “I’m hardly old enough to drink. I don’t think you need to call me sir, although it sounds kind of good coming from you. You have a nice voice.”
She groaned inwardly. All these girls tripping over themselves and he was going to turn that southern charm on her? Super. Not that he wasn’t nice to look at, but she didn’t have time for guys right now, especially ones who were related to the man who signed her much-needed paycheck. She forced a polite smile. “Guess that’s why they hired me to answer phones.”
He shook his head. “No, my uncle said he offered you the job because you were giving an unruly customer the what-for when he went in to get lunch one day. Figured you’d be able to handle all the craziness around here just fine.”
She smirked at the memory. The redneck had quickly regretted ogling her and asking if there was an up-charge for large breasts. “Yeah, not my proudest moment, but that customer deserved it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Uncle Patrick said you insulted the dude’s manhood… and his mother.”
She threw up her hands. “Well, the guy was being a dick. What else was I supposed to do?”
He pressed his lips together as if holding back a laugh.
She cringed. “Sorry. Sometimes my mouth opens before my brain gets involved.”
He chuckled, the deep sound so genuine the tension in her shoulders relaxed. “Don’t censor yourself on account of me. I didn’t hire you. I can’t fire you. So no filter necessary. Talk dirty to me anytime you want.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “If that’s your pick-up line, I’d work on it.”
He frowned, his brows furrowing. “No good?”
She sat her chin on her hand and shook her head.
“Really? Huh.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’d bet Molly or Krista over there would eat that shit up.”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sure you could recite the Pledge of Allegiance and the sorority twins would turn cartwheels.”
He nodded, his face serious. “That’s true. They do recognize my innate awesomeness. Too bad having a conversation with them is about as interesting as alphabetizing my CD collection.”
She glanced over at the two girls in question. Both were giving her versions of the stink eye. He followed her gaze, and they hurriedly looked away. “I have a feeling I’m not getting an invite to girls’ night now.”
He turned back to her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, if I were to need a decent pick-up line to entice, let’s say, a smoking-hot blonde who likes to talk dirty to have a burger with me, what would you suggest?”
Her cheeks heated, unable to fend off the effects of his easy charm. No wonder he had girls following him around like ducklings. She glanced down at her desk, wishing she could say yes, but knowing she couldn’t. She and Reid Jamison lived on different planets. She didn’t have time for flings or dating. She needed to work, get through the summer, save every penny, and hopefully have enough to afford the move to Austin for school in the fall. She looked up at Reid. “I would suggest you find someone who has time to say yes.”
“Not even enough time for a simple burger?” he asked.
She tapped her desk calendar. “I’m in high demand these days. Gotta book months ahead.”
He snorted. “Good thing I wasn’t talking about you then.”
She fought a smile. “Good thing.”
He rose from his perch and gave her a quick grin. “Just know that I’m a pretty thick-headed guy. Takes me a while to get the point.”
She straightened the papers he had mussed on her desk. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He gave her a mock salute. “Nice to meet you, Brynn LeBreck. Be seeing you.”
Reid bumped a shoulder against the entrance to the guesthouse and tried to get the humidity-swollen door unstuck. When it didn’t budge, he gave it another hard shove and it released, banging against the inside wall. “Piece of shit.”
“If it’s such a hardship, you could always move back into the main house,” said a female voice.
Reid startled and nearly dropped the sack of groceries he’d been carrying. “Jesus, Aunt Roslyn, what are you doing in here?”
His aunt rose from his couch and crossed her arms over her chest, her face as tight as the bun in her dark hair. “You got a package today.”
He set the bag of food on the counter of his efficiency kitchen and stared at the large cardboard box in front of her. “Okay. I appreciate the heads-up, but no need to personally deliver it.”
She picked up the box and flipped it over, dumping the contents onto the coffee table. A slew of items spilled across the surface and Reid groaned. Handcuffs. Floggers. A blindfold. A few brightly colored vibrators and a number of other things even he couldn’t identify. Son of a bitch.
She turned her angry-parent death stare on him. “What the hell is going on, Reid? Do I need to call Dr. Leonard? I know he only sees patients until eighteen, but he may make an exception for us.”
His jaw clenched, the ridiculous suggestion making his blood curdle. “Back off, Aunt Ros. This isn’t even my stuff. Jace must’ve had it sent here since he’s staying with his sister right now. And what are you doing opening my packages anyway?”
Her stern expression didn’t soften. “The label said R. Jamison. And I have the right to open anything that’s put on my doorstep.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was going to kill Jace. Beyond the embarrassment factor of being in the same room with his aunt and box of sex toys, he knew where this was headed. “I’m sorry. He should’ve never sent this here.”
She eyed him with her trial lawyer shrewdness. “Reid, I don’t have to remind you how important it is that you do nothing to bring attention to yourself during this campaign. Your uncle is running on a family values platform and I refuse to let your… issues put that at risk.” She sighed and shook her head. “I thought we were past this.”
“My issues?” he bit out. “What the hell? I haven’t gotten in any trouble since high school. And even then, it was just stupid shit. You act like I’m a goddamned criminal.”
She walked around the coffee table and came to stand in front of him, her diminutive stature doing nothing to diminish her powerful presence.
