Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance Page 2

  I started out skydiving, and after hundreds of jumps I wanted something else. I went on a bungee-jumping kick one summer, but those jumps are over too fast. I started BASE jumping off buildings and bridges. Even the near-miss I took off a cliff in Nevada didn’t faze me.

  When I met a guy who did wingsuit diving, I knew I had to try it. I was addicted from the first jump. It’s like skydiving on steroids. The suit catches the wind, and you ride it like a fucking bird.

  I don’t have much time before I have to pull my chute. I spread my arms wider to catch more of the wind, and it lifts me a little higher. I’m saturated with adrenaline, falling so fast I’d never survive the crash if I hit the ground. The landing site comes into view and I hesitate, my hand on the cord. I need to pull it, but I’m not quite ready. It’s too fucking good; I don’t want it to stop. I’m flying and falling all at once, the rush through my mind and body so much I almost can’t breathe.

  I’m completely alive.

  Three seconds. That’s all I have left.

  Two.

  One.

  I pull the cord and my chute billows out behind me, jerking me upward as it catches the air. The harness tightens around my chest.

  I float toward the ground, steering as I go. The ground crew is waiting. The other two jumpers are already on their feet, repacking their chutes. I pull on the steering lines, keeping my approach steady. The ground surges toward me and I’m hit with another kick of adrenaline. Landing is another rush, a moment of danger, the time when things often go bad.

  But death won’t take me yet.

  I nail the landing, running as my feet touch the ground, my chute falling behind me. My breath comes fast and the euphoria holds.

  I’ll be high for hours after that jump. It was perfect.

  We pack up our gear, and a truck takes us back to the hangar. This will be my last jump at Lake Elsinore for a while, but they have such a good crew I’m going to have to get down here again soon. I’m moving back to Seattle in the morning—whether permanently or just for a few months I haven’t decided yet. I’ll have to see how things go with the company I’m buying.

  I get another little hit at that thought. I’m taking a big risk, both professionally and financially. But that’s why I can’t resist. If this gamble pays off, I’m not only going to make a shit ton of money, I’m going to make a huge impact in the markets I’m targeting. No one ever got anywhere without putting themselves out there and taking chances. Those chances are what I live for. I go from one to the next, always craving another. Always craving more.

  I’ve had a great run in San Francisco these last five years. I’ve achieved everything I set out to do, and more. Now I wonder, what sort of rush does Seattle have in store for me?

  3: Selene

  A meeting request pops up on my screen and I feel a sense of dread. It’s for this afternoon, which is so last-minute, and as I look down the list of attendees, I see the entire senior staff and management team. I have a feeling this might be where Brad breaks it to us that something big is going down.

  I hope I don’t lose my job. It isn’t that I couldn’t find another one—but I love working at Vital Information. It’s literally the one part of my life I can truly say is going perfectly. I was hired about four years ago, and I feel like I finally found my niche. I’m the Brand Manager, and I’ve worked side by side with Brad for the last few years. We have an excellent team, with people who actually pull their weight, and we’ve done a lot of great things with this company. We have patents pending on several devices that track health and nutrition information, and we’ve gone so far beyond what we thought possible just a few years ago.

  But the signs that something is changing have been there for a while. I suspect we’re about to hear the word “downsizing.”

  After lunch, I join my colleagues in the large conference room. I’m one of the first to arrive, so I take a seat on the far side of the table and answer some emails while I wait. It gets stuffy as the room fills, and I pick my hair up off my neck, wishing I wore it up today.

  I check the time on my phone. Brad’s late. I stop myself from rolling my eyes. It figures he’d get everyone in here and make us sit around.

  Finally, Brad walks in, dressed in a button-down shirt and tie, his graying hair cut short.

  “Sorry to make everyone wait,” he says as he walks to stand in front of the whiteboard. “It’s been a busy day. Busy few weeks, really.”

  He pauses, and the tension in the room thickens.

  “I apologize for the radio silence these last few weeks,” Brad says. “I realize it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice that something is going on, but for a variety of reasons I haven’t been able to talk publicly about it. Until today.”

  Another pause. I shift a little and cross my legs.

  “As of about twenty minutes ago, the company has been sold.”

  The room erupts with questions and sharp inhalations of breath. I don’t say anything, just stare at Brad in disbelief. Sold? How could he keep this from me? I’ve been busting my ass trying to keep us afloat, pulling Brad’s weight every time he went on one of his many vacations. The least he could have done is told me privately.

  I lean back in my chair, already mentally updating my resume. I know what happens when a company is sold. The buyers always have their own people. I might have a few months, but I should start getting my name out there immediately, because there’s no question in my mind that my time here is short.

  Damn. It’s so disappointing.

  “Listen.” Brad puts his hands up, trying to get control of the meeting. “I realize this is a surprise—but believe me, this means big things for VI. There was no way I was going to turn over my company to just anyone, and I can assure you, the new owner doesn’t plan to gut our staff. He bought this company because of all of you.”

  Right. I’ve been through a buyout before, at my last company. They always say that, but as soon as the new owner is in the building the layoff notices start flying.

  “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions, and I’d like to take some time to answer them now,” Brad says. “I already have a companywide memo set to go out after our meeting, so you’re welcome to tell your teams the news. This is all out in the open now. But I want to emphasize that no one needs to be worried about their job.”

  Brad’s eyes sweep the group, coming to rest for half a second on each of our faces. Despite my frustrations, he’s been a decent guy to work for. He trusts me to do my job and gives me a lot of autonomy. But he spent the last two years growing the company at such a rapid pace, it was obvious it was going to crash and burn. I’m not surprised in the least he had to bail out.

  People start asking questions and his answers seem genuine, if vague. Despite his claim that we don’t need to be concerned about losing our jobs, he can’t give any specifics as to the new owner’s plans. In fact, he hasn’t mentioned who the new owner is. There are several contenders, as far as I know—competitors who I suspect would love to get their hands on our tech.

  Finally, I raise my hand.

  “Selene,” he says.

  “Who exactly bought us out?”

  “That’s a good question.” He opens his mouth but the conference room door opens and he stops.

  A man walks in. He’s wearing sunglasses, as if he just came in from outside, and a crisp white shirt with the top button undone. His dark hair is slightly unruly, in a way that makes him look confident rather than messy. He flashes Brad a smile as he slips the sunglasses from his face.

  My breath freezes in my lungs. Oh shit, it can’t be.

  Ronan Maddox.

  I try very hard to hide my surprise as Ronan shakes hands with Brad. I can feel my face flushing, and I desperately hope I’m sporting enough of a tan to hide it. I haven’t seen Ronan in five years. Not since his last night at Tech Solutions, our former company. A bunch of us from the office went out for drinks—a little going-away party celebrating Ronan’s last day. The night
ended with Ronan and me sleeping together in his hotel room.

  And I never heard from him again.

  Fuck. This is bad. This is so, so bad.

  I have a very staunch no dating coworkers rule. My dating life might be a disaster, but that’s one choice I’m sure of. Dating people at work never turns out well. I made a very ill-considered exception for Ronan that night, both because he was leaving—so technically we didn’t work together anymore—and because he was extraordinarily convincing. Looking at him now, I remember why, and my heart beats a little faster.

  He’s … gorgeous. Tall and lean, with high cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. He looks every bit as incredible as he did five years ago. More, in fact.

  “Everyone, this is Ronan Maddox,” Brad says. “He’s been running Edge Gear for the last several years, and took them from a small firm with less than a million in sales annually, to a powerhouse with one hundred million in annual sales last year, and on track to double that this year. I assure you, VI is in excellent hands with Ronan.”

  Ronan nods, tucking his sunglasses into his shirt pocket. I want to crawl under the table and hide. I flip my hair forward a little and look down at the table, hoping he doesn’t notice me, knowing that’s incredibly unlikely.

  “Thanks for the introduction,” Ronan says, and his voice sends a shiver up my spine. Damn him, he even sounds better than I remember. “I’m sure this is a surprise to everyone, but let me assure you, nothing is going to change at this point. I’ll be meeting with you individually over the coming weeks to get a better feel for your departments and your roles here, but I have no plans to make sweeping changes right out of the gate. VI isn’t going to be absorbed by Edge. I see this as a distinct set of brands, and you are all my experts. I need you to bring me up to speed and help keep things running smoothly while we make this transition.”

  I lift my eyes just enough so I can see him. Perhaps his little speech should reassure me that I won’t be laid off this week, but hearing his voice is doing nothing but make my heart race. That night was…

  I really need to stop thinking about that night. It was years ago, and if Ronan has held to his reputation I’m sure there’s been a long line of women who came after me. In fact, I doubt he even remembers me. We didn’t know each other well when we worked together. The most we ever spoke was at that cocktail party. He hit on me at work, but I always shut him down. I suppose he thought he might get lucky that night, since he was on the way out, and had a way around my rule.

  Of course, he was right.

  He keeps talking, answering a few questions. He doesn’t seem to notice me. I stay quiet, my eyes on the table, so I don’t attract his attention. I’m so glad I sat at the far end of the large conference table. Maybe I can get through this meeting without him realizing I’m here. I’m torn between hoping he doesn’t remember me, and feeling prematurely offended that he could have forgotten.

  “Excellent,” he says when the questions die down. “Thanks, everyone, for coming.”

  I look up, hoping everyone will stand and I can keep a few people between myself and Ronan while I sneak out the door. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something else, and his eyes meet mine.

  I see almost nothing on his face, save a slightly lifted eyebrow. People get up and he turns to greet someone approaching him.

  I breathe out a slow breath, trying to calm my thundering heart. If he recognized me, it’s obviously not fazing him in the slightest. I’m both relieved and mildly insulted. I slept with the man. It would be nice to think that was enough to make me stick in his memory.

  And I clearly did not forget him.

  We all file out of the conference room. Ronan is in the far corner, talking to several other people, as I leave. I get back to my office and sit down, wondering what the hell just happened.

  It had to be Ronan Maddox. Of all the people in the world who could buy out the company I work for, it had to be a man I spent a night with.

  A stupid, reckless night.

  A hot, sweaty, unforgettable night.

  But I am not dwelling on that. I am a professional. This doesn’t change anything.

  I will do my job, and that’s the end of it.

  4: Ronan

  People leave the conference room and some guy whose name I’ve already forgotten corners me. I say the right things and give him the right smile, but my attention just walked out of the room on a pair of mile-long legs.

  Selene fucking Taylor.

  I barely kept the surprise from my face when I realized she was sitting at the back of the conference room. I meant to spend more time familiarizing myself with the company roster before this meeting, but I don’t know if I would have believed it even if I saw her name. There could be more than one Selene Taylor in Seattle, couldn’t there? It’s not a common first name, but she can’t be the only one. There’s no fucking way I bought the company she works for.

  But there she was—sleek brown hair, soft bronzed skin, dark eyes, full mouth. Holy shit, I still remember what it felt like to kiss that fantastic mouth.

  I don’t know why she stands out the way she does. We only spent one night together. Maybe it’s because finally getting her into bed felt like conquering Mount Everest. Many men try, few succeed, and she made it almost impossible for me. She was clear from the moment we met that she did not date men she worked with. And she wasn’t kidding.

  A lot of women say that, but if you pursue them hard enough, they relent. Not Selene Taylor. She kept me at a distance—a huge fucking distance—the entire time we worked together. I didn’t think she had a single weakness. I knew she dated. She just stuck to her one rule like it was iron clad, and there was no way I could get past it.

  Until my last night at Tech Solutions.

  A big group of us went out for drinks, and I found Selene standing alone at the bar, sipping a dirty martini. I love a challenge, and the fact that Selene had been inaccessible to me for so long made her completely irresistible. I spent time talking with her, and the more we chatted the more I realized she wasn’t just a stacked piece of ass with a face to match.

  She was smart, and funny. She had a quick comeback for every one of my lines, never missing a beat. A woman like that could keep a man like me on my toes. That’s a rare thing.

  I was a predator, circling my prey, and it wasn’t long before that rule of hers didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. After all, technically we no longer worked together. Our chemistry was off the charts—I think we’d both agree on that. I took her back to the hotel I’d rented for my last couple of nights in Seattle, and we lit that room up.

  She was every bit as delicious as I imagined she would be. Tight, toned body. Legs for days. A set of tits that would make a swimsuit model jealous. She felt better than she looked, if that’s even possible. I strummed her like a fucking harp, making her pant and writhe. I watched her come the first time, pinned beneath me, and the orgasm she gave me was nothing short of epic. We were drenched and spent, sprawled out across the sheets, trying to catch our breath. Then I teased her, tasted her, got her hot again. The second time went from soft and slow to blazing hot and rough in the space of about two seconds.

  Fuck, I can’t believe I remember it so well. It was five years ago, and it’s not like there haven’t been women since—quite a few, as a matter of fact. But that is one night I’ll never forget.

  And now she works for me.

  I shake hands with what’s-his-name, and manage to extricate myself from the conference room. I know everyone has a lot of questions. I just bought out their company and the entire staff must be waiting for the news that I’m bringing in my own people to replace them. But the truth is, I probably won’t.

  A few will have to go—that’s inevitable. But it was the owner who was making a mess of this place. There’s a lot going right in this building, and with me at the helm we’re going to fucking own this market. I’ll only shake things up if I have to; for now, I’m content to let this ride and
make big staffing decisions later.

  I head to my new office. Brad cleared out late last night, so no one would realize. That was his call, not mine. The guy wants out of this place something fierce. He assured me he’ll be available if I have questions, but I know he’s full of shit. He’s taking his cut and running—probably somewhere tropical. I get the feeling Brad hasn’t been completely honest with the federal government on his personal tax returns.

  I did my due diligence; my lawyers assure me the company itself is squeaky clean. Brad, though? I know the type. He probably has money stashed somewhere overseas. It doesn’t make a bit of difference to me. I’m all for risk taking—it’s one hell of a rush—but there are boundaries even I won’t cross. Tax evasion happens to be one of them.

  There are a few boxes of my things already sitting on the large mahogany desk. Behind it, huge windows overlook downtown. I didn’t think I would, but I missed Seattle. San Francisco was a great place to live, and it was definitely the right move for my career. But it’s good to be back.

  I sit down and open my laptop, but I’m distracted. Instead, I lean back in my seat and put a hand to my chin. The presence of Selene in my new company presents me with an interesting dilemma. There’s no doubt that woman was off the charts. And I’d be kidding myself if I tried to believe she didn’t leave her mark on me. So few women do.

  None have, in fact. Not for a very long time.

  I know that’s why I never called her. It’s easy to blame the move. I was literally on the road to California the next morning. My stuff was on its way, my new condo purchased, new job waiting for me.

  And that one night made me question it all.

  I woke up in the morning to her dark hair spilling across the pillow, the soft curve of her body beneath the sheets, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go. One night with a woman—no matter who she was—should not have made me question my life choices.