What a mess.

  I kiss the top of Addison’s head, making a monkey sound while she laughs. In the last twenty-four hours, I had spent some time getting to know the girls, surprising even myself.

  Charlie turns around, already dressed in a sharp black suit, and hands me a plate.

  “Thanks, cuz.” I smile at her.

  “So, first day at the office. Shouldn’t you be changed already?”

  “It’s only seven o’clock. Relax, Mom.”

  She rolls her eyes at me, moving around the stove before turning it off. She takes a seat across the table, handing a pancake to Addison.

  “We didn’t finish our conversation last night about the dinner party.” She raises her mug towards her mouth, carefully blowing the steam away. “So Lex and I will be heading out that night. Are you sure you can handle all the girls?”

  I brush it off like it’s nothing, trying to disguise the mild panic. “It’s only for one night, right? How hard could it be?”

  Addison throws her cup across the table, smacking Ava in the face who, in turn, drops her iPad into her bowl of cereal. She begins to cry, and with Charlie telling Addison off for being naughty, the quiet kitchen suddenly becomes a zoo.

  Shit. What have I gotten myself into?

  “I’ll be fine,” I assure her, praying to god that their dinner is cancelled. Maybe I could convince Mom to visit for the weekend. Stop panicking already!

  I change subjects to curb my growing anxiety.

  “So tell me more about Haden Cooper and what should I expect from him as a boss.”

  “Let’s see.” She clears her throat, and begins, “He is very passionate about publishing. To be honest, I don’t know much about the business side of Haden. We usually get together only for social gatherings. His wife Presley and I have playdates.”

  “Publishing. It’s an interesting change of career for me.”

  “Well, you’re in marketing. Marketing books can’t be that hard?”

  “The fact that no one reads books anymore makes it difficult,” I point out.

  “Trust me,” she says confidently, “your generation may be all about gadgets and shit, but books are still very much alive.”

  “Yeah, for horny housewives.”

  “That’s so sexist and so not true,” she exaggerates, shaking her head in disagreement.

  “Really?” I humor her. “Tell me what book you’re currently reading on your Kindle.” I motion towards it, sitting on the countertop.

  She narrows her brows, crossing her arms because she knows I’m right. She may be in her thirties, but she still has the same angry pout she had when she was ten years old.

  “A book about a strong independent woman.”

  “Uh huh, and what genre is that book in?”

  “Erotic romance.” She coughs.

  I laugh hysterically, continuing as Lex walks into the room and greets us. Like Charlie, he is dressed and ready for work, wearing a navy suit and collared white business shirt. Armani. I know my brand names.

  Lex is tall—much taller than me. I’d say six-foot-two. If you didn’t know him, or were related to him like I am, you could definitely see why he comes across as intimidating. It has something to do with his eyes; they’re very green.

  Back when I was a kid and Charlie was seventeen, there was a rumor going around town that she was having an affair with Lex. He was a couple of years older than her and, at the time, married. Mom mentioned it here and there, but I have selective hearing when it comes to gossip. Especially when it involves my cousin screwing a married man.

  Lex places his laptop down on the table, along with his cell.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks, grabbing some coffee and sitting across from us.

  “Proving your wife wrong. That books are a dying breed and the only people who read are horny housewives.”

  He laughs along with me, infuriating Charlie. “Funnily enough, women count for the majority of our books sales. Specifically, in the erotica genre.”

  “Thanks for having my back.” Charlie gritted her teeth.

  Lex’s smile remains fixed. “Hey, I’m not complaining. Kudos to the authors that write the smut that turns you on.”

  I’m grateful that Lex and Charlie allow me to stay in their home. But the downside—they were awfully affectionate with each other. It’s quite sickening really. Thank god the guest bedroom is located on a different floor than theirs. I would hate to be next door. It explains why they have three kids.

  “Okay, guys. Awkward. I’m going to shower and when I come back, I expect both of you to behave. Three kids is enough. Uncle Noah doesn’t need any more madness in his life,” I remind them.

  I walk back towards my room and grab my clothes, hopping into the shower. After the shower, then shaving, I change into my crisp white shirt and charcoal gray pants. Charlie said the office wasn’t overly formal and suggested I keep the tie at home. I splash on some aftershave and make my way back to the kitchen, stopping just shy of the door. I hear an unfamiliar voice, a woman, and the accent is distinctively British. I stand behind the entrance and eavesdrop on the conversation.

  “Charlie, I’m fine,” the unfamiliar voice says.

  “Kate, you’re not fine. He is a douchebag. I can’t believe he just ended things between you via a text message. Grow some balls, will you?”

  “He had balls, Charlie, nice big round ones,” Kate says, chuckling.

  I scowl at the image of another man’s balls. Gross. Do woman really like big juicy balls? This is unheard of. I’ve never had a woman say, “Oh, let me touch your big balls.”

  I would have normally raised this topic with Benny and Tom. The reminder that they’re not a part of my life anymore dampens my mood.

  “Gross, Kate, now that image is going to be stuck in my head. Balls? Really?” Charlie complains. “Argh, let’s stop saying ‘balls.’ Jokes aside, I hate that he did this to you.”

  There’s a pause, followed by silence in the room. “I hate it too, Charlie. But I’m not going to pine for him anymore. He’s made himself perfectly clear and so it’s time for me to move on. I can move on,” she says unconvincingly.

  I promised myself no more. Stop looking for women itching for a rebound. It’s a sick disease that I can’t seem to shake. I can resist, be strong. Last night for example; that was just fun. Both women were looking for a good time. And just because Erika kept mentioning her ex, that didn’t mean anything, right?

  Rebound. Rebound. Rebound. The voices scream as they slap my face repeatedly.

  But this . . . I mean, the British accent is all types of sexy. It would be a waste to pass up this opportunity. All I need to do is see if her voice matches my imagination.

  I enter the room, clearing my throat. The kids are gone, and so is Lex. Charlie looks up, her curious eyes watching me cautiously. Her friend Kate has already eye-fucked me, greeting me with a playful smile. She’s a gorgeous one—strawberry-blond hair with cute little freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose. If she’s wearing makeup, you wouldn’t know, her bright blue eyes shimmering as she waits for an introduction.

  “Oh Kate, this is my cousin Noah. The one I told you about,” Charlie says carefully with a wary expression.

  “The one you told her about. All good, I hope,” I tease, smirking back at Kate.

  “All good,” she responds, while biting her bottom lip. “I’m Kate.”

  She stands up quickly, almost knocking over the pot of coffee.

  “Noah.” I shake her hand, holding on to it a bit longer.

  She is going to be easy. See, it’s all in a woman’s mannerisms. The flirty smile and batting of eyelashes is easy to spot, but if you look closer, you’ll see the way a woman’s thighs clench together combined with the bites of the corner of her lip.

  “So Noah, I hear you’ll be staying here a while,” Kate says cautiously, waiting for Charlie to interrupt. I must be missing something here—some stupid girl code.

  “Hmm, as long as Charlie and Lex will have me. I’ll see how the new job goes.”

  “Oh that’s right, you’ll be working for Haden.” She laughs while Charlie hides her snicker behind a cup of coffee.

  “And that’s funny because . . .”

  “He’s a jerk,” they say in unison.

  “A jerk?”

  “Yes, but since he’s settled down, his jerkiness is wearing off.” Kate laughs.

  “We’re kidding,” Charlie says. “Listen, I have to go or I’ll be late for work. Do you need a ride?”

  “I’ll take him,” Kate offers with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

  Too fucking easy.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Charlie makes dagger eyes at Kate as if to warn her. There may have been some kicking under the table as Kate’s expression becomes pained while mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’ and glaring back at Charlie.

  “Sounds perfect.” I grin.

  “Fine, whatever,” Charlie utters, grabbing her bag and tossing me a spare set of keys. “Lock up when you’re ready. I won’t be home till late but Lex will be here with the girls.”

  She walks towards the back door and stops. “You.” She points directly at Kate. “I’ll speak to you later.”

  The door closes shut, and finally, she leaves us alone.

  “I don’t know what her problem is, it’s not like I bite,” I say half-jokingly.

  “Oh really? That’s a shame,” Kate notes with dark amusement.

  I cock my head to the side, hiding the smirk on my face. “So . . . that ride?”

  “Yeah, that ride. I guess we need my car keys, right?” she grabs them off the table, and opens the back door.

  I follow her lead, purposely watching her ass sway in a tight black skirt. Charlie will kill me. With her bare hands. Unless, of course, we keep it a secret.

  So much for making promises.

  Chapter 4

  Charlie and Lex live in the hills—a property that sprawls across several acres with stunning views of the mountains. As beautiful as the house is, it’s miles away from where my new office is located. The roads are windy, and with Kate’s erratic driving, I expected to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. When we finally hit the freeway, I blessed the Lord above until we halted in traffic, sheer gridlock with no break in sight. It did, however, give us more time to chat.

  The more we got to talking, the more attracted to her I became. We had a lot in common, and her warped sense of humor made it an entertaining car ride. She is smart, and I’m talking business-savvy smart. Don’t get me wrong, I have been with smart women. There’s something to be said about a woman that can run a business; they’re dominant in the bedroom too.

  It takes me back to a few years ago when I hooked up with my old boss before she fired me. Actually, she fired me first. Something about having a bad day because her third husband sent her divorce papers and was trying to claim alimony.

  She was as hard as nails. Stern, determined, and always one step ahead of her employees. It was late one night when I stayed back to work on a project alongside her that she gave me the ultimatum.

  “I’m going to be frank.” Her rigid tone meant only one thing. “You’re a great worker. Someone that could really get far in this company. But I need to fuck you, and if I do, I’ll also need to fire you because I don’t fuck employees.”

  What was I to say to that? There would be plenty more jobs, and I was bored anyway. I took her there, on the large boardroom table, legs spread wide open where I’m sure the cleaners from the office across the street could see.

  She was dirty, had a fetish for spanking and tying me up. I wasn’t prepared for what happened, but turns out a power cable and remote control made excellent substitutes for a paddle and a rope.

  Now, Kate, she looked dirty. The type of woman that demanded it in her ass along with anything else you could shove in there.

  She talked about her life in New York City, running the office on the East Coast, and how she used to be Lex’s assistant BC (Before Charlie).

  “I’ll set the record straight. I have no life. Aside from business dinners and flying back and forth from London to the States, I don’t really have time for anything else,” she says truthfully. “New York may be the city that never sleeps, but I’m sleeping alone every bloody night.”

  “But you’re here,” I remind her. “Is this not for pleasure?”

  She smiles, loosening her grip on the steering wheel. “That depends. We’ve been chatting for nearly an hour and you haven’t asked me out.”

  Good point. Smart and sassy. I’m not the type of guy to ask a woman out. I don’t date, I fuck. That’s all I do. I’m not interested in relationships. After all, I am only twenty-eight. Still in my prime.

  “I’ve been instructed to stay clear of any women associated with Charlie.”

  Kate laughs at my comment. “Charlie is a simple woman. She’s relationship-oriented. She never grasped the concept of having fun, you know, letting loose.”

  “Please don’t talk to me about my cousin letting loose. She’s still the girl that stayed at our house during summer vacation and made me watch Clueless on repeat.”

  “If it’s any consolation, she’s a happily married woman now. A mother.” She smiles proudly.

  “Unless she’s a nun, can we please change the subject?”

  A Porsche cuts us off, prompting Kate to mouth off at the driver. “I should flip him the bird, the arrogant arsehole!” Letting out a frustrated breath of air, she continues to drive while calming herself down. “So tonight, what are you doing?”

  She is asking me out. A straightforward thinker. If only I hadn’t overheard the conversation between Kate and Charlie, or noticed that she glances at her phone every two seconds as she attempts to drive and battle the traffic.

  “Nothing tonight. I’ve only been here for two days so I haven’t had a chance to do anything that doesn’t involve tea parties or playing dress-up.”

  You’re such a fucking liar. You were eating pussy hard last night. Did you forget that?

  “Alright, time to take you out to play with the grownups. We just need to get around Lex and Charlie, otherwise they’ll make a big deal out of nothing.”

  “I’ll just meet you wherever you want to go,” I suggest.

  “Okay, there’s this new bar out in Malibu. Let’s meet around eight. Do you have a ride?”

  “I’m sure Charlie will lend me her car, otherwise I’ll find a way,” I tell her. Of course she would, and if she didn’t, I would remind her that yesterday Addison got red marker on my expensive shirt which resulted in a last-minute dry cleaning so I could wear it today.

  The traffic moves forward and we continue talking about life in LA. Due to her time spent in New York, Kate is very anti-California. She dislikes the heat and the traffic. She often refers to Los Angeles as a fame-driven money pit. It occurs to me, somewhere during a rant about the smoggy air, that this British girl is extremely homesick.

  “I can tell you miss home.”

  “I miss the cold weather. My mummy’s fish and chips with the mushy peas on the side.”

  “Excuse me? Mushy peas on the side of fish and chips?” I almost gag at the thought.

  “Yes, it’s my favorite dish. You don’t like peas?

  “Uh . . . I don’t mind them, but mushed with fish? No thanks.”

  “Such an arrogant yank. You think that’s gross but you eat peanut butter and jelly together?”

  Taken aback by her disrespect for one of the classics, I wonder how anyone could possibly knock a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  “Are you comparing mushy peas to a PB & J?” I ask loudly with a confused face.

  “Oh please, it’s weird, okay?” She cringes.

  A horn honking breaks our argument, and in return, Kate slams her hand on the horn, cursing along with it. “Did you see that? He flipped me the bird!”

  She looks hot when she’s angry. I wonder what would happen if I flipped her my bird . . .

  “We’re here,” she announces, parking the car at the front of the building.

  There goes that idea.

  I look outside the window and see a small brown building. It’s not the high rise I’d been expecting, nor does it even look like an office. It’s nestled between two large modern buildings, prompting me to check the address again.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” I question Kate while searching for the address on the email Lex sent me.

  “It sure is. Just remember, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she says wisely. “I’d love to come out and introduce you to Haden but I have a meeting to get to. Japanese businessmen do not like tardiness.”

  “It’s okay, we can leave the hand holding for later.” I raise my eyebrow and follow with a smirk.

  “Sure.” She turns her body to face mine, positioning her legs carefully so they don’t expose what I would love to have a look at. “Nothing like a good hand job. So tonight?”

  “Tonight.” I grin, breaking out into a small laugh as I open the door to her car.

  She leans her head as close as possible to the passenger window, and with her lips cracking into a smile, she says, “You’re a heartbreaker, Mr. Mason, and someone out here is definitely going to get their heart broken.”

  Kate was right. You don’t judge a book by its cover. So you shouldn’t judge a building in the same way. As soon as I stepped inside, I was astonished to see such an architecturally well-presented office space.

  The reception area had dark wooden floorboards and crisp white walls. The back wall, where the receptionist sat, is old brick work restored to its original condition. Hanging on the wall are various book covers sitting in large frames with an autograph at the bottom of each print. Moving closer to the reception desk, I can see that each book on that wall is a New York Times bestseller.

  The sconces in the room are modern, illuminating the area and giving it a very warm and inviting feel. And positioned in the corner is a vintage, brown leather couch with a bookshelf beside it housing many books. There are more books lying on the oval-shaped coffee table that sits on a huge, off-white shaggy rug. I want this to be my living room. All that’s missing is a fireplace and a woman sprawled in front of it naked.