Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (78 page)

“I signed up, though. There should be a place for me,” the man said, halting with his computer halfway out of his bag, standing against the wall.

“Not my problem. You have to go.” The presenter pulled up the first slide.

“But—”

“You have to go. You’re holding us up.” The presenter shook his head and leaned against the podium in slow impatience.

The harried man huffed. He stuffed his computer back in his bag and muttered as he stomped toward the door at the front. “I signed up,” he said as he passed the presenter. His words had no impact.

That could’ve been me. I would’ve been mortified, like getting picked last in dodgeball…and then getting a red ball to the face.

“Thanks,” I whispered to Brad as the presenter turned toward the large screen. “This time you really did save me.”

Brad nudged me softly with his shoulder. His eyes twinkled as they stared openly into mine. “My pleasure.”

A
s the presentation wore on
, I was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. All the information was insightful and fantastic, but while I was taking notes with vigor, Brad’s fingers only flew across the keyboard a few times. He’d stare at the slides as they changed, listen to the presenter for a few moments, and then click into solitaire.

That wasn’t what had my focus unraveling like a knit sweater when a kid was pulling on a string, though. As time wore on, his small shifts made parts of his body bump me. Sometimes it was his arm, but more often it was his leg. His knee would graze against mine, causing a surge of electricity to run through the point of contact and fry my body pleasantly. My stomach flipped and my heart flopped before clattering against my ribs.

I could’ve done without the continued sweating problem. I could almost smell the alcohol trying to work out of my body.

“Didn’t find that interesting, huh?” I asked when the presenter shut the slides down.

“This isn’t my first rodeo. I stopped going to conventions for a reason,” Brad responded.

“Oh, well, excuse me for not reading ‘I know it all’ in your bearing. My mistake.” I grinned as I stood and slipped my computer into its bag.

“It’s that, right there. That sassy attitude. That’s what you need to show the men in your team. Or in this field. That’d shut them down.”

I looked up in surprise at his serious tone. He winked. “Since I know it all, you can take that to the bank.”

“What is it you do again?” I said, slinging the strap over my shoulder.

“I’m a sort of consultant. Anyway, I have to run.” His gaze hardened as he glanced beyond me. A silent command filled his look before he took off down the aisle. Two men in pristine suits followed him. Clive met them at the front. The pack of suave, powerful men, led by a guy in a T-shirt and jeans, exited without a backward glance.

A nerdy guy with acne gave me an assessing stare as he made his way past me and into the aisle. Normally I would bend my face to the ground and pretend to be a plant. But something about Brad’s tone a moment before, not to mention his faith in me, unlocked Ms. Devastating.

The real me flooded out.

“Staring problem?” I asked as I straightened up and followed him.

His eyes widened. “N-no. Sorry.” His head bent to the ground. He hunched and skulked away, like I might’ve done.

Maybe I’d put a little too much attitude into it.

Checking my schedule, I continued on to the next thing.

* * *

T
he day had been filled
with interesting information, though none so advanced as that first lecture. My hangover had minimized to a dull throb, which meant I no longer wanted to crawl into the bathroom and drop my head in the toilet.

Four o’clock rolled around quickly, so I showered, changed into a sundress, strapped on my resting bitch face for my coworkers, and headed to the meeting spot. Halfway there—hopefully; I was always lost—my phone chimed.

I took it out of my small purse and read the screen.

F
rom Brad
: “Are you going out tonight?”

B
utterflies filled my stomach
. I just barely stopped myself from doing the jig.

How’d he get my number? Was he stalking me? Because I didn’t care what the masses said—I would be a-okay with this guy tracking me down. I’d take that creepy to the bank!

Until he got weird. Then I’d call Frank to bury him under a pile of bricks.

Coming out of my reverie, I realized I was at the danged outdoor check-in area again. Why I couldn’t find the beach but could always find my way back to the check-in area was beyond me.

Scoffing, I quickly checked my messages, Sherlock Holmes style, and saw that there was an outgoing message, simply saying my name.

Ah ha! He’d entered his phone number and then texted himself so he had mine. He wasn’t leaving communication up to me.

I should care about that, probably.

I made a mental note to do it later.

M
e
: “Booze cruise with co-works. Wish me luck that I don’t toss one overboard.”

Brad: “With co-works? Lol. Which one?”

I
furrowed my brow
. How the heck should I know?

M
e
: “I’m on a need to know basis with my employer. Except I rarely know even when I need to. So…”

Brad: “Got it.”

I
slowed
to a stop and was immediately bumped from behind. An old woman jostled me as she skirted by, followed by an old man.

“Sorry,” I muttered, stepping to the side. The screen stayed bare of a follow-up message.

Got it?

Oh no! He probably assumed I was busy for the night.

M
e
: “But I’ll probably be out after. If you are around.”

I
let
my thumb hover over the send button. That message sounded like I was asking him out.

I changed it to: “I’ll probably be out after, though. No real plans.”

I let my thumb hover again.

Did it seem like I was asking him to ask me? Like I was hinting that I wanted to hang out with him? Because that would be all kinds of desperate-sounding, and men hated that.

I scowled at myself, since I was doing that insecure girl thing, and then grimaced when that scowl blasted a passerby in the face. The woman jerked away with a startled expression.

My resting bitch face was powerful. Beam that baby at the wrong person, and I’d be phoned into Homeland Security…

“Sorry,” I muttered, not sending the message just yet and getting back on course to the meet-up location.

I was thinking how to rephrase when a new text came in. It was from my boss. “We’re about ready to go. Are you coming?”

“Crap,” I muttered, putting on a burst of speed. I wound through the slow-moving crowds, took a detour through the pool area because the path randomly wound through there, and finally saw the glistening blue of the Pacific Ocean.

Once at the beach, I found my group standing together with a few unfamiliar faces. My insides did a jig so I didn’t physically have to.

He was there!

Brad was standing next to my boss with his hands at his sides, facing the resort. A twinkle lit up his eyes as his gaze found mine.

Granted, I was a bit too far away to properly see said twinkle, and his face continued to be stern, almost hostile, but my fantasies would not be squished.

“Ah, here she is.” Chris, my boss, gestured to me. He glanced at the clipboard a stranger was holding. “She’s the last one.”

“Excellent. Let’s get moving.” The woman bearing the clipboard gave me a halfhearted smile and spread her arms for the group at large. “If you’ll follow me. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk up the beach.”

“We meet again,” Brad said as I neared.

I couldn’t contain a beaming smile, not at all playing it cool. “Hi. Are you stalking me? Because that is creepy. Just so we’re clear.”

He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m a stowaway.”

It was then I noticed two of Brad’s friends, the COO and Clive. “Oh. Is this a…business function?”

Brad glanced back before corralling me in front of him so I could follow the others. Teddy scowled at me, but let me pass before falling in. I wasn’t overly comfortable having him at my back, but a moment later I heard him address one of Brad’s friends, asking if he knew…some random person. Probably some business guy.

“It’s a schmooze cruise,” Brad said. “Lucas wants to get more information about your company and operations as a whole. I don’t think he was overly impressed with the presentation.”

I sighed and glanced back. My boss had fallen in with Teddy, one on either side of Lucas, the bearded friend. “I hope he doesn’t tell them that. They’ll blame it on me.”

“I gave him a heads-up,” Brad said softly. “I have the inside track, after all. You kicked sand on the right guy.”

“Do you work with him, or…”

“He’s a good friend of mine. Was before he got the job. Clive, too. He doesn’t work with Lucas, but he knows his way around business. He’s got a good ear for ferreting out bullshit. Excuse my language.”

“I’m deeply offended.”

“Please be careful up here,” the leader said, raising her voice to be heard. “The tide is high. We’ll have to walk through the water.”

“Ah crap.” I looked down at my Chucks with the socks peeking out. “I didn’t have time to find another pair of flip-flops. I didn’t think we’d be going through water.”

“I wondered why you were wearing sneakers. How’d you think we’d get on the catamaran?”

“Sneakers? What are you, eighty?”

“What do you call them?”

“Well, Converse are Chucks, obviously. Because that’s a thing, and I’m cool enough to know it. Normally, I’d call them runners.”

“Since when are you British?”

“Whatever, old man. Call them sneakers. See if you get any dates.” I bit my lip and stared out at the water. “It’s a catamaran?” The sun glistened on the cresting waves. “So…does that mean there won’t be dinner? Or food?”

Brad’s touch found my mid-back. Tingles spread across my skin, and memories from last night washed over me. The heat of his body. The softness of his lips.

Water charged toward a stone wall in front of us, washing over the sand. Above us people sat and ate, staring out at the ocean. There was no way around without getting wet.

“I think we get chips.” I could hear the laughter in his voice. “Does this mean there’s risk of you pitching over the side?”

“Probably,” I grumbled as I saw the water reaching for my Converse. “I should go barefoot. At least the beach is sandy.”

“As opposed to…?” Brad asked. He slowed with me, his hand still on my back. The people in front of us splashed through the shin-deep water.

“The beaches in Northern California are rocky,” I said. “They aren’t drool-worthy, I can tell you that.”

“Here, wait a minute.” Brad looked behind him.

“What’s up?” Lucas asked.

“Go ahead. She has to fix her shoes.” Brad waved everyone else on.

Teddy didn’t disappoint, giving me a scowl as he passed. He liked to dish one out every time he neared. I’d long ago started to look forward to them. It meant all was right in the universe.

Quickly, I stripped off my shoes and then stuffed my socks inside. When the others had disappeared around the corner, Brad turned to me. He looked down at my face, his eyes rooted to my mouth. “Ready?”

Holy shit, was he going to kiss me?

My insides felt like Pop Rocks that had been doused in soda. My breath sped up as he bent. My lips opened, wanting the contact.

His arms came around me. I closed my eyes.

And then squealed.

I was airborne!

I clutched his muscular shoulders as my legs swung into the air. My body hit his hard chest.

“What’s happening?” I asked, out of breath.

He cradled me in his arms, carrying me with no visible effort. He reached the corner and looked around it before walking forward. Water washed over his flip-flop-clad feet.

“We’ll keep your feet dry this time around. There’s another corner up there so your coworks won’t see you being carried.” He laughed, probably because of the “coworks” poke.

“Have you done this before?” I asked as heat infused my body. His broad back felt delicious under my palms. His smell, cologne mixed with spice, delighted my senses. Without meaning to, I leaned in, my face now close to his. Our lips nearing.

I remembered the taste of him, regardless of my alcoholic haze at the time. The feel of him as he pushed me up against the wall and claimed my lips.

“Gone on a booze cruise, yes,” he said, his voice husky and his steps slowing as we neared the corner. “Carried a woman to one…no.”

“It’s your fault,” I whispered. My cheek grazed his, scratchy with his stubble. Fire coiled in my middle. “You are bad luck where my shoes are concerned.”

His hand splayed across my back. His chest rose and fell before he stopped and let me slide down his body. Was it just me, or was there hardness pressing against my legs as they moved over his groin?

His eyes dilated. His gaze roamed my face. Water swirled around my ankles, but I didn’t notice it. All I could focus on was his head, slowly bending. His lips, so close.

“Brad,” someone barked.

Brad’s head jerked up, and then he blinked rapidly. He pushed back from me, only leaving a hand on my upper arm for stabilization. “Yeah,” he called, eyeing my feet.

The chill of the water finally bled through the heat of Brad’s presence. The hem of my skirt sagged, dripping. He’d put me down right before the corner, but we hadn’t gotten out of the way of the surge of incoming water.

“You coming?”

“Yeah.” He motioned for me to move. “We’re having technical difficulties.”

Sucking in warm air, I tried to clear my muddied thoughts. With or without alcohol, something about this guy made me hazy with desire. From his deep voice that vibrated through me, to his hard body, to his witty banter, I was lost.