Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance Read online

Page 7


  But god, he looks good.

  “Clothes,” I manage to say. I need to get myself together so he doesn’t see how flustered I am.

  Though it’s probably too late for that.

  His dimple puckers with his smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  He goes into the bathroom, but leaves the door open a crack. Of course he doesn’t shut the door all the way. As if I’d be tempted to peek while he’s getting his clothes on.

  Fine, I’m tempted.

  To keep my eyes away from the bathroom door, I look at the photos on the wall. There are several of him skydiving, taken from various angles—some in the air, and one just as he’s landing. Another shows him rock climbing. He’s clinging to a smooth face of red rock, shirtless, his muscles taut.

  Looking at his pictures isn’t really helping.

  He comes out of the bathroom, mostly dressed. He’s wearing dark gray slacks, but his shirt is open and his hair is still damp. Why does he have to be so fucking sexy? I want to grab him by the waist of those slacks and run my tongue down his abs.

  “Is this better?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  I blink, making sure to focus on his face. “Mostly.”

  He smiles. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s such a showoff, but god, he does it so well. This should not be working for me, but I’m getting hotter by the second.

  “Do you need something, or did you just miss me?” he asks as he starts buttoning his shirt.

  “No, I was wondering if you saw the email with the sales reports.” I resist the urge to fan myself. I’m a little warm. “It looks like there are some discrepancies and I thought we should go over the numbers.”

  “How about over dinner?”

  “Ronan.”

  “It’s well within the rules,” Ronan says.

  “Colleagues sharing a meal?”

  “Precisely.”

  “How about now?” I ask.

  “Actually, I have a phone conference in about ten minutes,” he says. “And I have meetings all day. I don’t think I’m free until at least five thirty. We can order in, or go out. Up to you.”

  I sigh, but he just gives me one of his infuriating smiles.

  “Just order in.”

  “Great,” he says. “I’ll see you tonight. Unless you’d like to stay and help me with the rest of these buttons?”

  “Goodbye, Ronan.” I spin around and head out the door before I lose all reason and take him up on that offer.

  ***

  Kylie texts me shortly after my dinner meeting with Ronan, asking if I want to meet her and Brax at Brody’s for drinks. I have just enough time to go home and change. I throw on a light gray t-shirt with a cute little martini glass on it, and a pair of jeans. Brody’s is walking distance from my house, and it’s a mild night, so I grab a light jacket and head out.

  I find them at a table near the back.

  “Hey, you guys, sorry I’m late,” I say as I slide into the booth across from them. “Work has been crazy.”

  Kylie pushes a full shot glass toward me. “You need to catch up.”

  I laugh. “How many have you guys had?”

  “Two for me, three for Brax,” she says.

  “Just two?” I say.

  “I’m half his size,” Kylie says.

  I toss back the shot. It burns something fierce and I can’t help but wince. “What the fuck was that?”

  Braxton laughs. “It’s called kick in the balls. Lives up to its name, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ll say.” I take a sip of ice water to wash it down.

  “So what’s up with you?” Kylie asks.

  “Work is busy,” I say. “My attempt at dating a so-called nice guy was a spectacular failure. So, yeah, basically the usual.”

  Kylie makes a face. “I sort of feel responsible for that.”

  “Don’t,” I say. “You couldn’t have known how weird he was. I should have trusted my instincts earlier.”

  “So, speaking of dates…” Kylie says.

  A waitress comes by with a basket of homemade potato chips. I pop one in my mouth.

  “What?”

  “Don’t say no until you hear me out,” she says. “I had a meeting with one of my design clients, and he is seriously the nicest guy.”

  “No,” I say.

  “You haven’t heard me out,” Kylie says. “He’s tall, good-looking, and he’s one of the owners. I’ve met with him a few times, and he’s so chill. I think you’d really like him. Look, I found his Facebook profile.”

  She holds up her phone showing his profile picture. I have to admit, the guy is attractive.

  “All right, he’s cute,” I say. “But you can’t be serious. You’re trying to set me up with one of your clients?”

  “Sure,” she says. “I already know he’s single.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  “Well, he kind of hit on me a little bit,” Kylie says.

  I glance at Braxton and raise an eyebrow.

  Braxton scowls and puts an arm around her. “I’m getting her a backup ring.”

  Kylie laughs. “A prong on my ring broke and it was at the jewelers getting fixed, so he didn’t know I was married. Hit on me is the wrong phrase. He asked if I was seeing anyone, and if not, maybe I’d like to have coffee. He was super nice about it. When I told him I couldn’t, he apologized and said he’s just trying to put himself out there more. I think he’s been burned a few times too.”

  Ordinarily, I might consider taking Kylie up on this. Goodness knows I set her up all the time before she got together with my brother—though, of course, that never worked out very well. But now that I’m no longer with Aidan, my no-dating pact with Ronan is in full effect. I take another sip of water to give myself a second to think. I don’t want to admit I agreed to not date anyone else. They’re going to think I’m crazy.

  “That’s okay, Ky,” I say. “He seems nice, but I’ll pass.”

  “Oh, come on,” Kylie says. “At least give him a chance. Let me set up a coffee date. Super casual, no big deal. If you don’t like him, you don’t have to see him again. No pressure.”

  “Really, I’d rather not,” I say.

  “What are you hiding?” Braxton says, narrowing his eyes at me.

  Fuck. I can’t keep anything from Brax. He can read me too well. “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Liar,” Braxton says.

  “I’m not lying,” I say. “I just don’t want to go out with the guy. What’s the big deal?”

  Braxton raises an eyebrow. “It’s not a big deal. But I know you’re hiding something.”

  I sigh. “Fine. I might have agreed to not date anyone for a while.”

  “What?” Kylie asks. “Agreed with who?”

  “Ronan.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kylie asks.

  “It’s one of our rules,” I say. “I said we need rules for working together. He agreed to all of mine, as long as I agree to not date anyone else.”

  Kylie stares at me with her mouth open. Braxton looks pissed.

  “I know that sounds crazy, but he can’t date anyone, either,” I say. “And I was with Aidan at the time, and we agreed I could keep dating him, so it seemed like I was getting the better deal. But now that I’m not with Aidan, neither of us are dating other people.”

  “Why the fuck would you agree to that?” Kylie asks.

  “Because that’s how I got him to agree to my rules,” I say. “And because I know he’ll be the one to give in first. He can’t date either, and that includes no sex. I figured I could forego dating for a while just to see him squirm. Plus it keeps him on good behavior at work.”

  “So what are these other rules?” Kylie asks.

  “No sleeping together,” I say, ticking them off on my fingers. “He can’t hit on me in front of my coworkers, and he can’t have me alone in his office with the door closed unless he has a work-related reason. Also, no dating. We can share meals as colleagues, b
ut no dates.”

  “How often does that happen?” Kylie asks. “The sharing meals thing.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “We have lunch together pretty regularly, I guess, but that’s always for work. And sometimes he orders in dinner for us in his office.”

  “So, neither of you are dating other people,” Kylie says.

  “Right.”

  “But you have lunch and dinner with Ronan regularly.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Which means you’re kind of dating Ronan,” Kylie says. “By default.”

  “No,” I say, holding up a finger. “I’m not dating Ronan. That’s in the rules.”

  “You thought of everything, didn’t you?” Kylie says.

  I take another chip and smile. “More or less.”

  “Except you’re basically dating him,” she says.

  “I am not.”

  “What did you do for dinner tonight?” she asks.

  I open my mouth, then snap it closed again. Shit. “I had dinner at work.”

  “With Ronan?” she asks.

  “Yes, but only because we had sales reports to review, and he was busy all day,” I say. “It was six, and we were both hungry.”

  “So, you were sitting in his office, innocently reviewing sales reports,” Kylie says, her tone amused. “Then you looked at the clock and realized it was late, so you grabbed some food and finished your little meeting?”

  “Something like that,” I say.

  “Or did he order dinner and invite you to his office to eat with him?” she asks.

  “Why are you picking this apart?” I ask.

  “Because it matters,” she says. “He’s luring you in and you don’t even realize it. Or you want him to, and you’re trying to play innocent because you know I’ll tell you that you’re being insane.”

  “I’m not being insane, and he’s not luring me,” I say. “God, he’s not some creeper hiding candy under his coat. I saw him this morning and asked him to go over the sales reports with me. He didn’t have time until later, so I agreed to meet with him over dinner.”

  “So it was a date,” she says.

  I glance at Braxton, but he just looks amused. “Thanks for not being any help.”

  “What?” he asks. “I’m not getting involved. You never want my opinion anyway.”

  “I’m not dating him,” I say.

  “You’re so dating him,” Kylie says. “This is like, office dating. He has you right where he wants you.”

  I’m about to say he doesn’t want me at all, but there’s no way I can say that with a straight face. Not with as many times as he’s told me he wants to fuck me on top of his desk. “I’m in control of this situation.”

  “Sure, you are,” Kylie says.

  I lean back in my seat and cross my legs. I don’t care what Kylie says, I am in control. Ronan might not agree, but I have him right where I want him.

  Don’t I?

  12: Selene

  The wheels on my rolling luggage keep getting stuck as I walk into the airport. I’m already flustered, and my stupid suitcase isn’t helping. I completely forgot I was scheduled to go to a conference in Denver this week. I got a reminder email to check in for my flight last night and had to scramble to pack. How I managed to miss putting a three-day out-of-town conference on my calendar, I have no idea, but I’ve been frazzled ever since I realized I forgot.

  I try to get my boarding pass, but of course the kiosk isn’t working. It tells me to see a ticketing agent. I stand in line for a while, hoping this isn’t going to make me late for my flight. I wonder if anyone else from work is on the same flight with me. I think several other people from the office should be going. I would have chatted with them about it yesterday, if I’d had any idea this was coming up today. I wonder why no one else mentioned it.

  The ticketing agent gets my boarding pass sorted. I glance at it before I head toward security. That’s odd—why am I in first class? Brad’s assistant Scott booked the travel arrangements before Ronan bought VI. I can’t imagine Brad would have asked him to book me a first class ticket. I must have been upgraded.

  There’s a long holdup in security. The line literally stops moving. I glance at the time. I’m getting dangerously close to being late for my flight. I thought I left the house with plenty of time this morning, but Seattle traffic is absurd.

  Since I’m just standing in one place, I give my brother a quick call.

  “Morning,” he says when he answers. It sounds like I woke him.

  “Hi, Brax,” I say. “Sorry to call so early. Listen, I just wanted to let you know I have to go out of town for a few days. I have a conference and I completely forgot about it until last night. I’m at the airport now.”

  “You should have told me,” he says. “I’d have driven you.”

  “It’s okay, I used Uber,” I say. “Tell Kylie I’ll talk to her when I get back.”

  “Sure,” he says. “We should get together for drinks.”

  “Definitely,” I say. “I’ll be home Saturday, but I think my flight is pretty late.”

  “Cool,” he says. “Text me when you land, and let me know if you need a ride home.”

  I smile. Braxton isn’t nearly as big of a jerk as he thinks he is. “I will.”

  Security finally starts moving, and by the time I get to the gate the plane is already boarding. I breathe a sigh of relief. At least I made it.

  I board the plane and look at my seat assignment again. It’s definitely first class—row two, seat A. I stop in my tracks, staring at the man seated in seat B. It’s Ronan.

  He stands and takes my suitcase.

  “I can get that,” I say.

  “I know,” he says, but he puts it in the overhead bin anyway.

  His seat is on the aisle, so he moves aside so I can get by him, then takes his seat next to me.

  “Morning,” he says with a grin, his dimple puckering.

  I put my purse under the seat in front of me. “Morning. I didn’t realize you were going on this trip.”

  “And I only realized the other day that we both were,” he says.

  I look at him. “Did you upgrade my seat?”

  He just smiles.

  I shake my head. “That’s not fair to everyone else who’s coming.”

  “No one else is coming,” he says. “It’s just the two of us.”

  “What?” I ask. “That’s not right, I know there were others.” He didn’t cancel their trips so he could be alone with me, did he? He wouldn’t go that far. Would he?

  “Mary in Sales called me yesterday,” Ronan says. “Both her kids have the flu, so she had to cancel. And there was one other person scheduled to come, but he quit when Brad left. I already had plans to attend, even before the VI sale went through. So yes, it’s just you and me.”

  Three days in Denver with Ronan. Alone. Well, not really alone. We’ll be at a conference with thousands of people.

  I sit back in my seat. “Well, this should be interesting.”

  “It will, won’t it?” He reaches over and plucks a piece of lint off my sweater, right at the neckline. “So tell me, do your rules apply if we’re out of town, and there are no coworkers present?”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice firm. “They apply even more.”

  Ronan grins at me again and settles back into his seat. He’s surprisingly subdued for the rest of the flight. We chat about work, but he stops making any advances on me. I wonder if he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security, or if he’s actually backing off.

  We go our separate ways at the convention center, checking into our rooms at the adjacent hotel. Conference sessions begin that afternoon, and after perusing the program, I decide on a few that look interesting. I glance at my phone as I walk to my first session, wondering if I should text Ronan and see where he is. In the end, I don’t. If we run into each other, that’s one thing, but I shouldn’t encourage him.

  The convention is sizable, with an attenda
nce in the thousands. I’ve gone the past several years, and I always find it a good use of my time. My first session is one of the large meeting rooms and I find a seat off to one side. I glance back at the door a few times. What am I looking for? Do I really think Ronan is going to coincidentally choose the same session as me?

  I don’t see Ronan for the rest of the afternoon. There’s a buffet dinner for conference attendees, and I grab a bite, although I’m not very hungry. I listen to the final speaker of the day in the huge ballroom. Ronan is probably here somewhere, but I don’t see him in the crowd.

  Afterward, everyone files out. I’m about to go back to my room when I feel a hand on my elbow. Ronan smiles at me and leads me out of the press of people.

  “How was your afternoon?” he asks.

  “Good,” I say. “Not a bad start. My second session was an absolute snore-fest, but the others were interesting.”

  “Yeah, I walked out of my first session. The rest weren’t bad.” He looks down at his hand, as if he just realized he’s still touching my arm. “How about we get a drink over at the hotel?”

  I take half a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He puts his hands up. “Honestly, I’m not playing games. It’s been a long day. I’m tired and I’d like to get a drink. It would be nice to not be alone.”

  I almost hate to admit it, but I feel the same way. My feet are killing me, but it’s not even eight o’clock. The thought of spending the rest of my night alone in my hotel room isn’t very appealing. “All right.”

  “Besides, it’s not like I can pick up women while I’m here,” he says with a grin. “I can’t violate the rules.”

  I smile and shake my head.

  He keeps his hand on the small of my back as we walk to our hotel. I know I should tell him to keep his hands to himself, but I like the way it feels. My mind starts to drift to what it would feel like to have his hands on my skin. We are fifteen hundred miles away from any of my coworkers…

  We get to the bar and find a small table. I take a deep breath. I need to stop indulging in those kinds of thoughts.

  The waitress brings our drinks, setting them on little white napkins. We talk for a while about the conference—interesting things we learned, people we met. After we finish our drinks, the waitress brings more.

 

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