Authors: Codi Gary
And definitely not for me.
Beast grunted, as if he was disagreeing with Oliver. But even if Eve did want Oliver back, she would be his downfall. She might be stubborn and outspoken, but she was also too nice for her own good. He’d never had nice, didn’t even know what to do with it. The women he went for knew the score and never asked for more than he could give.
And no matter how many naughty thoughts he might have about her, Evelyn Reynolds was a woman who wanted it all. She’d demand everything from him, and if he couldn’t deliver . . .
He couldn’t take the chance that she might ruin him.
“No. She is definitely not for us.”
“S
O, YOU READY
to work?” Oliver asked several hours later.
Eve wanted to say yes, but the pictures had taken longer than she’d expected and she was so hungry she was ready to eat a horse.
“Sure. Do you want to do this in that conference room?” They stood in the front lobby beside Beast, who sat panting at Oliver’s side. Everyone else was eating dinner in the large dining hall, and although Sparks had invited her to join them, she’d actually wanted to be alone with Oliver so they could get their work done.
But it was almost too quiet around them, making the loud, rapid thud of her heart that much louder. She was still embarrassed at having practically molested him earlier, but she had to work with him, which meant shoving down her attraction to him. No more touching, flirting, teasing—nothing.
“Yeah, but at the risk of you getting pissed, I’m pretty hungry,” he said. “Maybe we could order a pizza or something?”
Eve’s stomach rumbled at the thought. “I would love some pizza.”
Oliver pulled out his cell phone and dialed. Before she could pick it up, he reached out and grabbed her bulky laptop bag, waving at her to follow him. “Yeah, I’d like to order a large . . . ” He paused, looking at her.
“I like pepperoni and olive,” she said.
“Pepperoni and olive pizza, a two liter of Coke, and add some of those cheesy breadsticks . . . eight of them, with marinara and ranch. Yeah, delivery.” As Oliver led her into a small room with a rectangular table and several chairs, he set down her bag and rattled off the address and his credit card number.
Eve took a seat, watching him end the call, and her gaze was drawn to the tan, sinewy muscles of his arm.
“Are you mad?” Oliver set his cell on the table and sat down next to her. She shifted her chair a bit away from him, trying to put some distance between them.
Damn, why does he have to smell so good?
“About what?” she asked.
“That I didn’t let you pay for the pizza. I didn’t even ask if you liked Round Table; it’s just what I always order ’cause I live right down the street.”
“No, that’s fine,” she said.
Suddenly, Beast was pushing his way between their chairs, and Oliver cursed. “Will you get out of the way?”
“For a guy who’s supposed to be training dogs, you don’t seem like much of a dog person,” she said.
“My dad worked with German shepherds and rottweilers as police dogs, so I was around them, but we never had one as a pet.”
“That’s too bad,” Eve said, reaching down to stroke Beast’s big head. “Dogs are awesome. I bet if you gave this guy a chance, you’d love him.”
“He’s pushy,” Oliver groused.
“Ah, you don’t like him because he’s like you.” Eve grinned as Oliver glared at her.
“So, this social-media stuff. Tell me what you want me to do,” he said.
Eve pushed her irritation down at his brusqueness. What had happened to the guy who’d tried to charm her over lunch? Or the one who’d looked at her earlier with so much heat, she almost combusted just being near him? Had that all just been one-sided? Had she imagined it?
What does it matter? Didn’t we already decide that getting involved with him was a bad idea? That we weren’t going to be ruled by sexual attraction?
Shaking off her hurt, she took out the laptop to show him her spreadsheet. “Okay, I took the liberty of setting up your website domain, your Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, since your guys hadn’t done it yet.”
“Hey, why do I get lumped in with the rest of these guys? I just got here.”
“Because I saw your Facebook page, and you really are barely there.” Shit, she had just admitted to cyber stalking him. Great.
“You checked me out, huh?”
“Don’t get too excited,” she said. “I wanted to show you the basics of how to get in and out of the accounts, set up events, and post. Do you have the apps on your phone?”
“No, like I said, I barely look at my personal Facebook account,” Oliver said.
She sighed loudly and held out her hand. “Give it.”
“Has anyone told you you’re bossy?”
“All the time, but it tends to be effective when I want things to get done,” she said.
Oliver picked up his phone and held it out to her. Just as she was about to take it, he pulled it back. “First, say please.”
“Really?” She sounded exasperated, but that was too bad.
“You want my phone
and
my help? Then I’m going to need you to have a little patience and treat me with respect. Understood?”
He could tell he’d surprised her by her wide-eyed, horror-filled expression. After several seconds she flushed crimson and looked away from him.
“I’m sorry. I was rude. May I please have your phone?”
“Thank you.” He placed the phone in her hand and watched as she bent over the screen, noting that her cheeks were still a dull red. He got the feeling that Eve didn’t get called out on being anything but nice too often, but he didn’t want Eve to think he was weak and that she could just run roughshod over him and he would sit back and take it. She was a strong, independent, sexy woman, but he was a man. A strong, virile man who didn’t cow or bow to anyone.
When she finished downloading the apps, he reached out to take her hand. Her soft, warm skin against his rough palm was irresistible, and he couldn’t stop from running his thumb across the back of it as he studied her nails. Each one had a different design. At first, she tried to tug her hand away, but when he held it firm, she relaxed. Slightly.
“Live, Love, Laugh, Repeat,” he read aloud. The words were staggered in black across the white nail polish. “I like it.”
“Do you want me to bring you a catalog next time?” The laughter lacing her tone was a little shaky, and he wondered if his touch made her nervous or if she was still put out with him.
“Catalog?” he said, bewildered. He looked up from her nails and met her gaze, the green of her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. His hand tightened on hers, and he started to lean in.
“For the nails. It’s a press-on thing.” Her words were nearly breathless, and he was sure she’d leaned into him, too, her mouth opening slightly.
Oliver reached up, his fingers itching to tangle in her loose, dark hair . . .
“Whoa, am I interrupting something?” an amused voice asked from the doorway.
Oliver clenched his fist as his gaze swung to Best lounging in the doorway, grinning. Oliver wanted to drag him outside and knock that smirk off his face, but Eve nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Actually, I forgot I had plans tonight, and I’m already late,” Eve said, turning off and closing up her laptop. She put it away before swinging the laptop bag over her shoulder. “I’ll post the pictures tomorrow. If you can take photos and videos throughout the week and upload them to the program page, that would be great. And if you have any trouble with posting media, let me know and I’ll be in touch. But don’t post more than five times a day, unless it’s important.”
“Evelyn, wait.” Oliver stood up and tried to reach for her, but she eluded him, her color high. She was out of reach and out the door before he could stop her.
Oliver glared at Best. “Has anyone ever told you that you have shit timing?”
“What? You should be thanking me,” Best said.
“And why is that?”
“Because I just saved you from an agonizing death at the hands of General Reynolds. If he found out you were making a move on his daughter . . . ”
Oliver knew what he meant. If he got involved with Evelyn, he could kiss his career and his dick good-bye.
O
N
S
UNDAY AFTERNOON
, Eve was curled up on the couch watching
The Walking Dead
, but she wasn’t really paying attention. Since last night, all she’d been able to do was replay that moment with Oliver, the one where he’d been two seconds away from planting those delicious-looking lips on hers. His eyelids had been heavy, already starting to close, and that hand had been coming up to her face, probably to cup it. Both had sent her pulse racing so fast she’d actually been a little dizzy.
Eve flopped onto her side, groaning. Her cat, Matilda, who’d been comfortably laying across her lap, meowed and stood up, her back arching as she stretched.
“Sorry, babe, but mommy’s having a moment over here,” Eve said.
Matilda’s yellow eyes were unsympathetic as she twitched her fluffy black tail.
Eve reached out to rub Matilda’s ears, attempting to pacify her. As the cat leaned into her ministrations and purred loudly, Eve’s mind drifted back to Oliver. Last night, when he’d called her out for being rude, she’d been horrified that he’d been right. She had been trying to put some distance between them, and her best defense was a “brick wall of superiority”—as her freshman science partner had told her once. Like her father, she had the ability to lead people, but it didn’t always make her a fan favorite.
Oliver had known what she was doing and yet, he’d just accepted her apology and moved on. Hell, if Best hadn’t walked in, he would have kissed her.
And there was not a doubt in her mind that she would have let him.
She knew he wasn’t right for her, even for a brief fling, but she also couldn’t deny that she wanted him.
Bad.
And she hated it. Obsessing over a guy was something she’d thought she’d outgrown, yet here she was, unable to get the loaded question out of her head . . .
What would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted?
Their kiss could have been a dud, and working with him would have become awkward as ass until they got over it and realized they’d dodged a bullet.
Somehow she doubted it, though. Just Oliver holding her hand was enough to light her up. She’d spent the better part of last night imagining his lips and hands all over her body, driving her crazy until she exploded.
Then she’d started worrying about what would happen after the mind-blowing sex—sex that was so amazing, she actually threw out her vibrator and locked him in her closet, only to take him out whenever she wanted him.
Okay, that one was on the crazy side, but a girl could dream, right?
Once the sex and newness wore off, she’d still want the nice, normal, home-every-night guy, and eventually, their affair would crash and burn. It was inevitable and better to put the kibosh on it before it started.
A knock on her door jolted her out of her head, and Eve bolted upright. Her friends knew how she spent every Sunday: catching up on shows and vegging out until dinner with her parents at six. And even if they needed something, they would have called first.
Matilda jumped off the couch and scrambled into the other room as Eve stood up.
“Who is it?” she called.
“It’s your father, Evelyn, open the door.”
“Shit,” she said aloud.
“I heard that,” he said.
Curse these cheap apartments and their thin doors.
Glancing around her disastrous apartment, she started gathering last night’s take-out containers and rushing to the kitchen to throw them away. “Hang on.”
“There is no need to clean up. I’ve been your father for twenty-five years,” he said. Eve could hear the amusement in his tone, but despite his words, she knew if she answered the door right now—in yoga pants, an oversized sweatshirt, and her hair falling out of a messy ponytail—he wouldn’t be able to help commenting.
“Evelyn, now,” he barked, making her feel like a six-year-old who didn’t want to leave the playground.
“Fine, but I really don’t want to hear it, Dad,” she said.
She opened the door, and her father stepped past her into the apartment. She watched his eyes shift around the room and knew what he was thinking as he took in her sink piled with dishes, her clothes thrown about the floor and furniture, and the dust gathered across every surface.
“Eve—”
“Bububububu . . . I don’t want to hear it,” she repeated.
Her dad’s mouth thinned under his thick silver and black mustache. Eve wasn’t sure why mustaches and beards had started coming back the last few years, but she had to admit that the look fit her father’s tan, weathered face. Dressed in a collared shirt, jeans, and a cap with an American flag on the front, he looked like a laid-back man enjoying his day off, but Eve knew better. Her dad never relaxed.
“So, what brings you by?” she asked.
Her father walked over to her arm chair, flicking one of her bras off the back of it before sitting down. “You mother wanted me to come by and check on you. She was concerned when you called to say you weren’t coming over for dinner.”
Eve refrained from rolling her eyes. When she had told her mother that she’d just needed a day to relax, her mom had been cool about it.
Which meant her dad was here because he was worried about her. How sweet.
“Do you want some coffee?” Eve asked. She’d gotten up this morning and been lazing on the couch, but if she was going to have a coherent conversation with her dad, she needed caffeine.
“Do you have a mug that’s clean?” he asked.
Eve slammed a cupboard and held up the black mug she kept just for him. “You just can’t help it, can you?”
“No, I can’t. Not when you’re living in a pigsty and you look like—”
“Let me stop you there,” Eve said. “My apartment might not look like a
Better Homes and Gardens
magazine, but it is hardly a pigsty.” Pausing to start the coffeemaker, she turned and pinned him with a hard look. “And you should definitely know better than to insult a woman’s appearance.”
“You’re still my daughter, and it’s my job to tell you that a man wants a woman who takes pride in her appearance,” he said.
Eve’s skin prickled with heat as anger flashed through her body. “I am put together six days a week. If on my one day off I want to wear sweats and not brush my hair, then that is my right. A right I should thank you for, by the way.”
“I did not fight for your right to look like a slob,” he barked.
Eve took a breath, arched her back, and cracked her neck, attempting to banish the urge to tell her father to get out. “Dad, why don’t you tell me why you’re really here and stop pussyfooting around?”
Surprisingly, her dad didn’t comment on her language and instead got right to the point. “How has Martinez been working out?”
Eve hesitated. “Sergeant Martinez is good.”
“Really? He hasn’t tried getting out of the fund-raiser at all?”
“No, he’s been a big help,” Eve said. Suspicion overwhelmed her. “Was that your plan? For me to report back to you on this guy if he didn’t fall in line?”
“I don’t have a plan, I was just asking a question,” he said casually.
Too casually.
“Why don’t I believe you?” she asked.
“There’s no reason why you shouldn’t.”
“I know that Oliver is the guy who kicked Hank’s ass a few weeks ago. This wouldn’t be about avenging the family honor or something stupid like that, would it?”
Her dad watched her thoughtfully, and Eve squirmed. The last thing she wanted was for her dad to know she liked Oliver.
Whoa, when did attraction turn to like?
“I am not petty, Evelyn.
Oliver
was taken off MP active patrol because he was fighting with a civilian off base and I wanted to make an example of him.”
Shit, he’d noticed she’d dropped Oliver’s name.
Eve’s phone went off in the nick of time, blaring Meghan Trainor’s “All about That Bass.” She looked around for it and saw it on the coffee table next to her dad. Before she’d even taken a step, he picked it up and looked at the front.
His expression was blank, but when he held the phone out to her, his tone was cutting. “Speak of the devil.”
Eve nearly groaned out loud, then snatched the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, Evelyn, it’s Oliver.”
“Hi. You know, it’s really not a good time.”
“I don’t want to keep you, I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was out of line and I just wanted to let you know that I will be on my best behavior from now on.”
“That’s great, why don’t we go over those ideas later on today, okay?” She hoped to God her dad hadn’t heard Oliver’s apology; she definitely didn’t want him to start asking questions. Especially when it was nothing. Less than nothing.
“Huh? You want to meet up today?” He sounded so adorably confused.
“Yeah, I’ll text you the details in a bit, but I’ve got to go, okay?”
“Okay—”
Eve hung up and went back to preparing the coffee.
“Evelyn,” her dad said behind her.
“Yeah?” She turned and caught the deadly look on his face.
“I’ve always thought you had a good head on your shoulders and, besides that one hiccup when you were a kid, were an excellent judge of character,” he said.
That hiccup had been Andy Briggs when she was seventeen. Her father had never liked him, but she’d fallen hard for the blue-eyed army private, only to find out he was playing her. And once her father found out, he’d managed to have Andy transferred, but he’d never let Eve forget about it.
“Thank you? Why do I hear a big ‘but’ coming?”
“
But
, I am worried about Sergeant Martinez taking advantage of you—”
“Let me stop you there,” Eve said, setting her cup down. “No one is going to take advantage of me, and there is nothing going on between me and Sergeant Martinez. We are just working together, that’s it.”
“I just worry that he isn’t pulling his weight and is creating more work for you.”
Eve finished doctoring her coffee and sat down on the couch. “Honestly, Dad, he has done everything I’ve asked and hasn’t shirked his responsibilities once. You might want to lighten up and give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, I’ve seen Hank when he’s had a few, and I’ve been tempted to knock his ass out myself.”
“I know exactly how difficult your brother can be, but it doesn’t change anything. Sergeant Martinez should have known better.”
Eve sighed. She wasn’t going to win an argument with her dad about her brother. He might say that he knew Hank’s faults, but her brother had always been able to get away with murder. Perks of being the baby and a boy, she supposed.
“Fine. Is this why you dropped by? To ask about how Sergeant Martinez was doing? And don’t tell me it was because mom was worried, because I don’t buy it.”
He had just finished taking a drink of his coffee and set his mug down on the coffee table before answering. “I just wanted to check in with you. It’s not as if we see each other anymore without family dinner, and when I learned you weren’t coming, I wanted to find out why. Now I know.”
Man, he was a master of the guilt trip, but underneath that, she heard exactly what he was trying to say:
I miss you.
Despite their innate ability to drive each other nuts, they were close and she missed him, too.
“I know I’ve been a little absent, but I just want to do a good job. It’s hard networking and getting a new business off the ground,” she said. “I promise, next Sunday I’ll be there and you can pump me for all the information you want about Sergeant Martinez or anything else.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” her dad said. “Just be careful with Martinez. Still waters run deep with that one, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Eve opened her mouth to defend Oliver but thought better of it. There was no point in fighting with her dad about a man she wouldn’t ever see again once the event was over. Nothing was going to happen between Oliver and her before or after, so why bother getting her dad bent out of shape?
“I will. I promise.”
Her dad nodded and stood up. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to clean up.”
Eve rolled her eyes and followed her dad to the door. “You just had to get that last dig in, huh?”
“I’m your father. It’s my job to encourage you.”
O
LIVER STOOD IN
the middle of his living room, staring at the fluffy material that used to be inside his couch cushions and now blanketed the floor. Beast lifted his head from where he sat gnawing the side of his leather armchair, and when Oliver saw the white cotton caught in the dog’s lips and teeth, he lost it.
“I was in the shower for twenty fucking minutes! How in the fuck did you do all this in twenty minutes?”
Why in the hell had he listened to Sparks and Best? The two of them had told him that socialization and bonding were an important part of training and that he needed to take the monster dog home with him to do that. Now, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was all just a setup. Give him the defective, destructive dog and just sit back and laugh.
Beast panted at him for a second before his wrinkly face scrunched up and he sneezed, sending stuffing and snot flying through the air. Oliver grabbed the leash, planning on taking the dog back to the facility, but instead, he found himself running after Beast as the dog grabbed one of the throw pillows and skidded out of the room.
It wasn’t just the damage to his furniture that had Oliver ready to send Beast packing. When he’d left the dog in the backyard last night, Beast had howled for hours until Oliver had brought him inside and shut him in the crate he’d taken from the facility. But that was worse. Finally, Oliver had given up and let the dog out of the cage, leaving him to wander around Oliver’s bedroom. Oliver had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep and woke up spooning Beast in his bed.
The day had progressed from there to this moment, chasing a dog through his house right before Eve was supposed to arrive.
When she’d texted that she wanted to come by to iron out the event details, he’d picked up the place quickly before grabbing a shower. Now, he just wanted to tell her not to come, that they would have to plan for another day because he had a dog to annihilate.