Unexpected Lovers Box Set by J.B. Heller
I sipmy coffee while Arlo chomps away at his cereal—with way too much exuberance for this early in the morning—when I bring it up. “So, how long have you known this Sadie?”
He pauses with his spoon a mere inch from his open mouth then grins at me. “You kept watching after I went for a shower last night, didn’t you? You dirty old bastard. I’ve already called dibs.”
I scoff. “I did not. And thirty-six is not old, you little prick. Now answer my question.”
His eyes sparkle, and all I can do is hope that she hasn’t sunk her claws too deep into him, or he’s going to end up hurt when I tell him she’s scamming him for his money.
Placing his spoon back in his bowl, he laces his fingers together then sits back in his seat. “I’d say it’s been about three months since I first saw her. Isn’t she the sweetest thing you ever did see?”
A scowl flashes across my face. “Three months? You’ve been going behind my back for three freaking months, Arlo? What the hell? I thought we had a pretty good open line of communication going.”
He shrugs and reaches for his spoon. “We do. Don’t stress, old man. You and I are solid,” he says as he chews.
I cringe. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth. It’s disgusting.”
Arlo rolls his eyes and keeps on chomping. Once he’s done, he speaks again. “Look, what I do with Sadie isn’t something we need to talk about. Ever. But especially over breakfast. Now I’m going to have a chub on the way to school. Thanks for that,” he says, then he pushes out his chair and takes his empty bowl to the sink.
Slamming my eyes shut, I rub my temples with the hand that doesn’t have a death grip on my coffee. “Arlo, we need to talk about this.”
He scoops his backpack off the kitchen floor then wraps a hand over my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “No, we really don’t,” he says, and he walks out the door. “Later,” he calls as it closes behind him.
I curse under my breath as I glance at the time on the wall clock. I should already be at the office, but I couldn’t go in without at least trying to talk to my son about whatever the hell is going on with that woman. I’m the best damn divorce lawyer in the city. I talk to women about their scumbag husbands’ sexual exploits all damn day, but do you think I can have a frank conversation with my own son about sex? Apparently not.
That settles it. I have to talk to her—Sadie—and make her break things off before she breaks my son’s heart.
I just have to find her first, which shouldn’t be too hard, seeing as I already know she lives in my apartment building.
I quickly glanceat my watch again. 8:55. Shit, I’m going to be so late.
Hopping around the entryway, I finish tugging on my Ugg boot then fumble my way out the door. My foot taps an erratic rhythm as I wait for the elevator to arrive, and when it does, my heart takes a nosedive.
Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding is standing in the middle of the space, and he’s glaring at me. Like, fully at me. As though I’ve somehow wronged him by making the cart pause in its descent. I step inside and quickly turn my back on him then press the button for the lobby.
The elevator doors seal closed. Heat pours off his body as he steps closer to me. His arm snakes around my side, and my breath catches in my throat. Oh Lordy, this is one of my favorite dreams.
But then his hand slams the emergency stop button, and I frown. That’s not how this fantasy usually plays out.
“I know what you’re doing, and it ends now,” he hisses into my ear.
My frown deepens. This is most definitely a new-to-me fantasy.
His hand curls around my shoulder, and he spins me to face him as he crowds me against the mirrored wall. Heat rolls off him as he glares down at me, his head dips closer, and his nostrils flare.
Tilting my head, I examine him. He’s in a light-gray suit; it matches his steely gaze, and it’s sexy as hell. I want to caress his bulging bicep—and the rest of him. He’s very touchable. Not that I’ve ever touched a man like that before, but I want to. And he would be my first choice.
His eyes narrow further the longer I scrutinize him. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” he demands.
“Should I?” I inquire. “I’m not sure what the deal is, but you’re the one who stopped the elevator, and I’m running late, sooo …” I draw out the last word, giving him an expectant look. “Either get to the part where you kiss me senseless or hit the go button, man.”
He rears back. “Oh, so it’s not enough to seduce my son; now you’re trying to get into my pants too? Unbelievable.” He shakes his head, glaring down at me with unconcealed disgust.
I do the only logical thing I can think of in this situation. I pinch myself. “Ouch,” I mutter. Then, fast as lightning, I reach out and tweak the back of his hand too.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks, slapping my hand away.
Hmm, so now I’m thinking I’m not still sleeping, and this is not a kinky dream.
Well, shitballs.
I couldn’t believemy luck when the elevator came to a halt and Sadie was standing on the other side of the door. Just the little gold digger I was hoping to find.
But the look on her face is not at all what I was expecting when I got the chance to confront her.
All the color drains from her cheeks as I rub the back of my hand where she just pinched me. Sweat breaks out across her forehead, and it looks like she’s about to hurl. I take a quick step away from her, just in case.
“I am so, so sorry,” she says, shaking her head back and forth. “I thought, I mean, I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think I’d find out?” I accuse. “You thought you could seduce a sixteen-year-old boy without any repercussions? Well, lady, I’ve got news for you, and you’re not going to like it.”
She balks. “Sixteen?” she repeats then throws her head back, laughing.
Jesus, how many personalities does this woman have?
She’s snickering so hard she’s actually wheezing. “Six-teen.” She chuckles. “Dude, there is no way you could pass for a sixteen-year-old,” she says once she’s regained control of her ill-timed amusement.
“What the hell are you on about? I’m talking about my son, Arlo. I know you’ve sunk your skanky little hooks into him, Sadie, and it ends now. You’re going to break this thing you have going with him off. Today,” I state as I straighten my tie.
She sobers immediately, her shoulders pulling back and her eyes narrowing. “What did you call me?”
“Sadie,” I say cautiously, because clearly this woman is unhinged and liable to attack me.
Her head tilts to the side, and she unleashes a lethal glare. “Why would you call me that? Are you stalking me?”
My eyes widen. “What? No.”
“Then why would you call me Sadie? There are only a select few people who know about Sadie, and you, sir,”—she eyes me skeptically—“are not one of them.”
I throw my hands up between us as she stalks toward me. She’s not the least bit threatening in her woolly boots, skintight jeans, and oversized sweater, but the look in her eyes, on the other hand … yeah, I don’t want to mess with that.
“Look, lady, I just want you to back off my son,” I tell her.
She frowns again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know your son. This is the first time you and I have ever interacted; how would I know your kid?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. I walked in on him last night stroking one out to the little video of you cleaning in …” I swallow and try not to stare at her tits as I say, “Cleaning in your maid costume.”
Sadie doesn’t move for a moment, then her eyelids begin to flutter as she blinks rapidly. “How—I don’t understand. There are age restrictions in place.” Her head tilts to the side as she stares at the floor between us, then her face shoots up, and she’s glaring at me again. “How did you know I’m Miss Sadie? I wear a mask over half my face.”
Hmm, how to tell her I have closely examined that tattoo on the back of her neck more than once or twice in the six months since I first noticed it—and her—in this very elevator? And how do I do it without coming across as a complete and utter psychopath?
“Well?” She stomps her foot and squeezes her hands on her narrow hips.
I glance at the ceiling in hopes that removing her from my line of sight will help me come up with a good explanation. Then, the phone beside the emergency stop button rings, filling the small space with a shrill sound that irritates the shit out of me. I snatch up the receiver and tell the tech guy that everything is fine and I accidently hit the button.
Moments later, the elevator is in motion again, and I still haven’t answered Sadie’s question, but I do have one of my own. “If your name’s not Sadie, what is it?”
She arches a brow at me. “Like you don’t already know, Stalky McStalkerpants.”
I gape at her, then she steps out as the doors slide open, and she strides away without a backward glance.
