"He's our new Head of Security." She frowns at me, tucking long locks of her jet-black hair behind her ears. "He started today."
"He started today?" My heart sinks into my stomach…and then lower.
"That's right. You were helping Lily when Bryant introduced him," Lauren says, oblivious to the landslide currently happening inside me. "He's one of the detectives Grant pinched from Nashville PD. The other one, Knox, is just as hot as he is." Her cheeks turn pink, but I don't have time to question her about why. "I didn't know he was coming tonight. I guess someone must have invited him."
No, they didn't.
He's here to babysit…and I'm the spoiled little rich girl he's supposed to be watching.
It's stupid because I don't even know him, but a little piece of my heart that I didn't even realize he'd claimed breaks in two. I suck in a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry.
"You okay?" Joey asks, far too perceptive.
"Fine," I lie. "I need to get some air. I don't feel well."
He narrows his eyes on me. I silently plead with him not to ask any questions. I don't have time to answer them right now because I really, desperately need to get out of here. Before Jason Kirby comes back and realizes that I'm the spoiled little brat he was sent here to babysit.
Joey, sweet, merciful Joey, must see something on my face because he immediately jumps into action. "It's probably the alcohol and the fall from the bull," he says, sliding an arm around my waist. "Come on, I'll get you home."
"You don't have to do that," I protest, not wanting him to miss out on all the fun just because my night has turned out to be…a hot damn mess. If this is what twenty-one feels like, I want my childhood back, please.
"Girl, please. I see about nineteen bad decisions waiting to happen," he says, smirking at me. "Leaving with you is going to save me all kinds of unnecessary drama and theatrics."
"From you or from them?" Lauren asks.
"Me, honey," he says without missing a beat. "It's always me."
Lauren giggles. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Miranda. Happy birthday."
"Thank you. See you tomorrow."
I let Joey lead me toward the entrance, holding my breath the entire time. Once we're safely in an Uber, headed toward my apartment, I let out a relieved breath. And then I sigh.
I guess I did break all three rules tonight. Too damn bad the man I'm leaving with is my gay best friend instead of the man who gave me my first ride.
Chapter Two
Jason
If hell is real, I've descended into the blackest bowels of the place. Of course, the sleek glass-fronted office building housing Davis Financial Group looks nothing like Satan's throne room, but appearance can be deceiving. This place is definitely hell.
I should know.
I went to heaven last night, with a beautiful brunette who had me coming in my pants like an inexperienced teenage boy. She's everything I didn't know I was looking for. Big brown eyes, long mahogany hair, a pouty bottom lip…and a tight little body that begs to be taught how to fuck. She's the whole package, sweet, smart, cute as all hell. Sexy as sin. She had me eating out of the palm of her hand in about two seconds flat.
And then she disappeared with another man.
Miranda Dawson.
My newfound obsession.
Too damn bad she doesn't exist.
When she disappeared last night after I called someone to come take over for me, I hit up every source I have for information on her. The only Miranda Dawson in this great state is a happily married forty-year-old mother of three who lives in Knoxville.
My girl may have left with another man, but she isn't married, a mother, or forty. And I'm pretty fucking certain the guy she left with is gay. At least, the bouncer at the doors of the dive bar seemed to think so. Whoever he is to her, he ain't her man, that's for damn sure. She already has one of those. Me. She just doesn't know it yet.
I don't know why she ran after promising to wait for me, but I intend to find out.
I scowl at the building, pissed that I have to spend the next eight hours here instead of scouring the city for the gorgeous little liar who has me turned inside out. My job here is cushy as fuck, not even gonna lie about that. I make bank to babysit a bunch of financial analysts and their clients to ensure no trouble blows through the doors. But the next eight hours stand between me and finding my pretty baby, and that is intolerable.
Never thought I would see the day I fell flat on my ass for a woman, but here we are. She smiled at me in the back of the bar where I found her, and the fucking Heavens sang. I was hers well before she came all over me in the middle of the bar, her teeth in my skin to silence her cries of pleasure. And those sexy sounds…mother of God, those sounds. She was whining like she didn't know she could feel that good.
Is that what spooked her? Made her run?
I don't know, but I intend to find out.
This city ain't big enough to keep her from me for long. I know how to run people to ground. Until I took the job here, I was a detective in Nashville. Spent most of my life finding motherfuckers who didn't want to be found. And sweet little Miranda isn't a hardened criminal. Hell, she ain't a hardened anything.
My pretty baby is as innocent as they come, a virgin.
She won't stay that way for long once I get my hands on her. My dick has been hard enough to pound steel since she smiled at me. I've jerked off four times since I left the bar, and the big bastard shows no signs of relenting anytime soon. Ironic considering he hasn't been interested in anything for years. He only wants Miranda.
That's fine with me since I want the same thing.
When I find her, I'm going to finish what we started last night and have my girl bred in five minutes flat. Then I'll put my ring on her finger and make her my wife. Maybe then the desire to kill everyone and everything standing between me and her will abate.
I just gotta get through this fucking day first.
I stomp toward the building and then through the doors into the luxurious lobby. Despite my foul mood, I can't help but admire the place. I know fuck all about what a financial advisor does all day, but Grant Davis apparently makes a killing doing it. This place screams money.
The lobby is tastefully decorated, but there's no hiding that the furniture costs more than most people make a year. The floors are porcelain. The outer walls are all glass, allowing bright sunshine to flood into the place. The break rooms on each floor are stocked full of snacks and drinks for employees. They also house massive televisions. There's a gym on the basement level and a slew of other perks.
Grant takes care of his people. He seems like a good dude, despite everyone walking on eggshells around him. I guess his sister just married his best friend or some shit like that. I don't know. He doesn't pay me to ask questions or pry into his personal shit. He paid me to replace Bryant Denver, who was called to active duty. No one here has anything bad to say about Grant anyway. They may tiptoe around the man, but they like him.
"You," I growl, coming to a dead stop when I see the curvy brunette sitting behind the front desk. She was talking to Miranda last night. She's hard to forget with her jet-black hair, cat-eye glasses and ruby red lipstick. I don't remember her fucking name though. Yesterday was my first day here and I'm shit at names. But she knows my girl.