spent a lifetime having nobody to look out for you other than yourself, it takes time to break the habit.
“Good. I’ll call when we’ve finished up here.” He nods
“All right, laters.” I step out into the afternoon sun when the SUV swings around the corner from the back of the cabin.
I wait for James to climb out and smile when he holds the door open for me.
“Miss,” he greets me politely, holding out his hand as he assists me into the car.
“Hey, James, Ben. Sorry for the wait.”
I move to the far side and strap myself in as James climbs into the passenger seat beside Ben.
“It’s fine. Where to, Viddy?” Ben calls, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“Home, please. I need to shower and change before my meeting later.”
“Okay. Oh, and Chris messaged me to tell you she took DJ and Kevin to a theme park today. She says you owe her big time as she hasn’t stopped throwing up. Apparently, rollercoasters and hot dogs don’t mix. Who knew?”
He shakes his head while I grin.
I might have been the one to take DJ under my wing, but every single one of my team pulled him into the fold and treated him as family and it’s because of DJ I even met Ben and his son Kevin in the first place.
Ben and Kevin had been on the streets for six months after Ben’s wife died, and his ex-father-in-law tried to file for custody of Kevin. Ben had heard firsthand about the abuse the man had bestowed upon his daughter; there wasn’t a chance in hell he was risking his boy falling into his clutches, so he ran.
They stayed mostly in shelters, and when DJ had come for food, he and Kevin had struck up a friendship, even in the most unlikely of circumstances, hell maybe because of them. DJ insisted I find Ben and Kevin and let them know he was safe. I just went one better and offered them the safety and protection they so desperately needed.
I took the life of a dirty cop that night and saved the lives of three people who deserved it. I might not be a good person, but I like to think I can still balance the scale of morality in my favor a little.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I sip coffee and watch as William, or Will as he insists I call him, skims over the report I just gave him.
“And this is next year’s projections?” he asks, looking up at me. The guy might have nearly twenty years on me, but you’d have to be dead not to find him attractive. Today his dark chocolate hair is neat and slicked back at the sides, the top a little longer showing a touch of rebellion. His dark blue suit and gold tie would look ridiculous on most of the population, but on him, it seems effortlessly classy and attention-grabbing without being tacky.
“No, that’s this year’s gross earnings. Next year’s projections are almost triple,” I reply, crossing my legs, feeling my body heat when his eyes trail their way up my bare skin.
“My father used to say never get into bed with a woman unless it’s to fuck her, but getting into bed with you, even if it’s only for business, was by far the smartest thing I ever did.” He grins, making my stomach clench with need.
You’d think I would have built up some kind of resistance to hot men by now with the amount I’m exposed to them on a daily basis, but apparently, the more I see, the more I want. My pussy is a gluttonous bitch who is sick of being denied.
“Mixing business with pleasure is never a wise choice, Mr. Harris.” I wink, standing on shaky legs. It’s the same spiel I always give him. Heck, it’s the same spiel I give to Cash and Reid, too. It just doesn’t change my body’s reactions to any of them.
We’ve been playing this game now for a year, two magnets trying to push the other away, and yet the attraction is still there.
“That’s true,” he agrees before standing and walking around his desk toward me, “but fuck if I don’t want to make you the exception.”
He stands in front of me, too close to be described as anything other than intimate. I look up at him under my lashes, willing myself to step back, but my feet are frozen to the floor, refusing to move.
“Fuck it,” he growls a second before his hands are