Charmed and Alarmed (Daddy Issues #3)

1. Holden

1

HOLDEN

6 MONTHS AGO - NEW YEAR’S EVE

C oming here wasn’t my idea.

One might think, given my long-standing predilection for unattached sex, that frequenting bars and nightclubs would be a custom of mine. That isn’t the case, however, and this is the first time I’ve stepped foot in a place like this in years.

I’m now remembering why.

The music is shit, the drinks are worse, and it’s so crowded I’ve had my toes stepped on no less than four times since entering the building. My date might be attractive, but my dedication to fucking her is steadily diminishing with every additional minute I’m forced to spend here.

As a stranger staggers past, trying to shove a pair of cardboard glasses shaped like the new year onto my face, my patience comes to an abrupt end. I don’t often like to think of myself as too old for something, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that at forty, I am absolutely too old for this shit.

“Do you want to leave?” I ask the woman I arrived with, Janine, who is perched on the bar stool beside mine, chatting with one of the friends she “forgot” to mention we were meeting here.

Janine looks around, pouting. “But it’s almost midnight!” she whines, gesturing to the big blue countdown clock projected on the wall above the stage.

It is not almost midnight. We have over half an hour to go until then, and I would rather go home alone to fuck my own hand than wait around here for that time to come and go. I shake my head, offering her a pained smile. “You have fun, I’m heading out for the night.”

As I go to move, she catches my arm. “No, I’ll come! Just let me hit the ladies’ room first!”

For fuck’s sake.

I force myself to offer her a tight smile, nodding in agreement. Judging by the line I saw when I went into the men’s room a while ago, her restroom detour will have us here until midnight anyway.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I turn back to the bar, intending to settle up the bill. As I do, a woman sitting down on the empty stool beside mine catches my eye.

She’s wearing a very short, shimmering gold dress and matching heels that make her legs look endless. Her dark brown hair is pulled up in a tight bun, with tiny gold pins encircling it like a tiara.

Every inch of her that I can see is delicate and toned, and I’m quite sure I’ve never seen a woman hold herself the way she does, as if she’s royalty, and this shitty barstool is her throne.

A flute of champagne is held in her hand, and as she turns to examine the specials menu, I feel as though I’ve been hit by a truck.

I know her.

“ Leni ?” I hiss, horrified with myself for the blood that went rushing to my cock the moment I saw my business partner’s youngest daughter.

She turns to look at me, and her eyes go wide with recognition. “Holden! Wow. Small world.”

“Very small,” I agree with an uncomfortable laugh, my hand falling to my lap to discreetly adjust my hardening dick. “Shouldn’t you be in New York?”

The last time her bragging father mentioned her, which was yesterday, Lenora Vogel—more commonly called Leni—was in New York City preparing for her role in a major ballet.

Leni sips her champagne. “A friend of mine is in the band.” She gestures toward the stage, where a small group of men are part of the way through a shitty Queen cover.

A friend? Ignoring the immediate, irrational bite of jealousy this information sparks, I tilt my head to the side, pretending to study the group. “Interesting song choice,” I say at last, turning back to look at her.

Jesus, I’m definitely attracted to her. Little Leni is all grown-up and unquestionably stunning, the type of woman I would try to take home if the circumstances weren’t what they are. Bram is not what anyone would call easygoing, and I doubt his new relationship with a younger woman would save me from his wrath if I took Leni to bed.

My cock, oblivious to the very real threat of being forcibly removed from my person should it go within a foot of Lenora Vogel, throbs at the thought.

“I didn’t realize you had such discerning musical tastes, Holden,” Leni replies primly, and I know she doesn’t miss the way my eyes track the path of her champagne flute to her lips again.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Lenora.”

The crowd cheers at the end of the song, and I step closer to her on the pretense of making room for a group trying to get past me. Her knees brush my thighs, and I know I’m not imagining the way they press more firmly together at the contact.

Humming, Leni takes the last sip of her drink and sets it on the bar behind her, gazing at me expectantly. “Are you going to offer to buy me another? It’s only polite. Haven’t you heard I’m a struggling artist?”

“I have.” Again, working of their own accord, my eyes drop to her thighs. Even covered in black, shimmery tights, I can see the evidence of her athletic training in the lean, toned muscles there. What I wouldn’t give to see the rest of her. Christ, I bet she’s wild in bed. In no universe can I imagine a woman like this not giving me a run for my money.

Swallowing back the impulse to push this further, I lift my hand, signaling the bartender to bring her another. Leni’s lips curl into a dangerous little smirk. “Thank you.”

She looks over her shoulder toward the stage, and I follow her gaze. The bass player is glaring at me. “Just a friend, huh?” I ask with a chuckle, turning back to her.

Leni lifts a shoulder in a delicate shrug. “For now. I’m sure he’s hoping his musical ability will impress me right into bed.”

“How’s that going for him?” Behind me, the music starts up again, and this time, the bass is noticeably off rhythm. I feel myself grinning as I lean in to hear her reply.

This close, I can smell apples on her skin, see the tiny smudge of mascara beneath her left eye, and certainly don’t miss the way her breath catches as I draw closer. “Are you asking as a family friend? Or are you asking as a man hitting on a woman in a bar?”

Part of me, the sensible one that doesn’t want Bram Vogel to cut off my dick, knows the answer I should give to that question. Better, more responsible, to let this—whatever this is—pass.

The other part, the impulsive one that’s so unexpectedly and deeply affected by this woman, is downright eager to see just how far I can push this.

The band’s shitty music swells over the chattering crowd, and I have to lean in close for her to hear my reply. “If I was hitting on you, you’d know it, princess.”

It brings no small amount of satisfaction to see the pretty pink flush that’s coloring her cheeks when I pull back, betraying her inexperience. Even with it, Leni stares right back at me, a challenge blazing in her dark eyes.

“That’s a shame,” she replies simply, just as the bartender sets another glass of champagne on the bar beside her. Taking it, she gets to her feet, and even in heels, the top of her head barely comes to my nose. My heart rockets into my throat as her hand finds my bicep, and she leans in, speaking into my ear now, her warm breath ghosting over my neck. “Thank you for the drink, Mr. Ellinger. I’m sure my father would be ever so relieved to know you’re looking out for me.”

Then, without another word, her hand leaves my arm, and she steps away, vanishing into the crowd.

For a moment, I’m rooted to the spot, my heart beating so hard it seems to muffle the noise of the bar around us.

“Holden!” I look around automatically, blinking in surprise at the sight of my date. She must have only been gone a few minutes, but now, she looks different. Now, she looks wrong . Her hair is too light. Her legs are too long. Her breasts are too big. Her voice is too bright.

Nothing about this woman bears any resemblance to Lenora Vogel, and while ten minutes ago I was interested in fucking her, now…

“I’m sorry,” I croak, looking back over my shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of dark hair and shimmering gold in the crowd, but coming up empty. Heart sinking, I look back to the woman I arrived with, who is gazing at me, obviously bemused. “I need to get going. Have a good night.”

She blinks. “What? I thought you wanted me to come with you!”

Ignoring Janine’s furious gaze, I lift my hand to signal the bartender for a check, still mentally scrambling to make sense of the brief interaction that just occurred. Could that really have been Lenora Vogel? Bram’s little girl? Obviously it was, and yet, sometime while I wasn’t paying attention, she became someone else.

I’m barely aware of my surroundings as the check appears before me. Without so much as glancing at the amount, I sign it, shoving the small clipboard back over the bar, and get to my feet, turning my back on Janine and all hopes of getting laid tonight.

The Lenora Vogel I remember was a hyper, blur of a girl, talking a mile a minute and constantly picking fights with her parents. The woman I met tonight was calm, controlled, and undoubtedly aware of her beauty. There isn’t a question in my mind that she’s used to getting attention, and I was too thrown off to hide my attraction to her.

Jesus, I really was attracted to her. Desperately. If she were anyone else, I would have made it my personal mission to fuck her within an inch of her life.

The crowd thins out as I near the door, and thankfully, there isn’t a single person waiting in line for the coat check. Everyone is on the dance floor or at the bar, preparing for the clock to strike midnight, but the only thing on my mind is going home. Alone.

“I’ll bring it around,” the valet tells me as I hand him my ticket, the late-December wind cutting through my coat as I step up to the curb. “There are drivers on call if you need one.”

“I had one drink. I’m fine,” I assure him, shoving my hands into my pockets. He heads off without further questions, leaving me alone with my preoccupation with Lenora Vogel.

The street is busy for this late at night, scattered with groups darting between brightly lit clubs, their laughter too loud and their steps unsteady. Vapor from my breath twists through the icy air, and to keep warm, I turn, intending to pace up and down the sidewalk until my car arrives.

I don’t get far.

Only a dozen yards away, wrapped in a dark coat and standing on the curb, is Leni.

My heart stalls.

She hasn’t noticed me. Her face is illuminated by the screen on her phone, and as I watch, she sighs, shoving it back in her pocket.

I swallow, heart thudding heavily. “Do you want a ride?”

She spins around, a look of surprise flashing across her features, and for a moment, we just look at each other.

“What happened to your date?”

You.

I force myself to smirk. “Not my type.” My car appears before the valet stand, and the driver gets out, rounding the hood to pass me the keys. I hand the man a tip, thanking him quietly, but still, I don’t move. “A rideshare is going to take forever. Let me drive you home.”

Unbidden, the image of Lenora in my house appears in my mind’s eye, her fingers working to open the buttons of her coat. I would step closer, curling my hand around her neck, watching her expression turn from surprise to desire…

The icy wind carries down the street, and she shivers, pulling her coat closer.

“Okay.”

I’m careful to keep my expression light and amused, not allowing her to see how much this development excites me as I open the passenger side door for her. There isn’t anything to be excited about. I’m going to give her a ride home, that’s all. She’s my partner’s daughter, and I can’t leave her standing alone on a cold street.

Just because I’m attracted to her, doesn’t mean I have to fuck her. That might be a foreign concept to me, but I do have some boundaries. Or, at least, a strong sense of self-preservation.

“Thank you,” she tells me graciously, gazing over at me through the dim light cast by the dashboard as I get into the driver’s seat. “There was a forty-minute wait, and I’m pretty attached to my extremities.”

“Of course.” I fasten my seatbelt and move to put the car in drive, but pause. “Am I taking you to Bram’s, or?—”

Leni silences this question with a withering look. “Honor’s place. She’s across from that Italian restaurant, Boca. I’d rather not risk hearing anything I can’t unhear at Dad’s.”

Considering the fact that her father is in a brand-new relationship with a beautiful woman who is half his age and for whom he was pining for over a year, I would say the probability of Leni overhearing something unfortunate is rather high. “Fair enough.”

She leans back in her seat, crossing her legs as I pull away from the curb, heading across town toward work. “I have to say, you’re not high on the list of people I would expect to run into at a bar on New Year’s Eve.”

Is she calling me old? “I go out,” I protest, resisting the urge to turn and look at her as we stop at a light.

“Yeah, to gallery openings and restaurants that serve tiny portions with unpronounceable names. Not mingling with the unwashed masses at a place where you have to get a stamp on your hand to enter.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” I confess, not quite sure why I’m so reluctant to admit she’s correct. “You’re leaving early too. Does that mean you’d rather not mingle with the unwashed masses, either?”

Her delighted laugh makes the whole car warmer, and I tug at the top button of my coat, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. “If you must know, I was duped into attending. Craig, the guy from the band? He’s one of my roommate’s brothers. When he told me he played bass, I was picturing upright classical, not mediocre electric.”

It’s my turn to laugh, indecently pleased that it doesn’t seem likely Craig will be getting a second shot. “The venue wasn’t a tip-off?”

“He picked me up!”

“I bet gallery shows and restaurants that serve tiny portions with unpronounceable names don’t sound so bad right about now.” Leni’s answering giggle fills the car, and as we stop at another light, I can’t help looking over at her.

Our eyes meet through the darkness.

We both look away. Christ, she’s fucking beautiful. Stunning, even. As grim as it is to admit it, somewhere along the way, sex became routine. I can’t remember the last time the thought of being intimate with a woman was truly exciting, and I’m not sure whether it’s the forbidden element of this, or she really does affect me so strongly, but fuck …

Instinctively, I know she’s interested too.

Would it be so terrible to fuck her? Just once? We’re both consenting adults, and Leni doesn’t seem like the type to get attached. I’m confident we could go our separate ways with one immensely satisfying night to remember each other by, and never talk about it again.

Bram would never have to know.

My heart is beating faster as I double-park outside the darkened Italian restaurant she mentioned. I’ve been here before, but never paid any mind to the large, brick apartment building across the street.

Leni doesn’t move. “Thank you for the ride. I’m sorry your date didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry yours didn’t either.”

If there’s one thing I’m sure of here, it’s that neither of us is actually sorry. Swallowing, I turn to look at her beautiful face, half-lit by the streetlight shining down on the roof of the car. Leni looks back at me from beneath a fringe of dark lashes, her teeth catching on her full bottom lip.

Fuck it.

“The night doesn’t have to end here,” I suggest mildly, pulse elevating with every second that passes, cocooned inside the dark interior of my car with her.

Leni nods slowly, processing this. “Where would you like it to end instead?”

I reach out, wrapping my hand around her wrist. Both of us watch as my thumb skims over the delicate, translucent skin there. “I’d like it to end in my bed.”

In the quiet stillness of the car, I don’t miss the uneven breath she lets out. When I look up to meet her eyes, however, there is nothing nervous or unsure in her smile. “I would too. There’s just one problem, though.”

My cock, which has been hard since I saw her standing on the curb, throbs. “What’s that?”

Leni’s free hand finds the door handle and she pushes it open, flooding the car with freezing winter air. My hold on her wrist slips. I watch, heart in my throat, as she gets out of the car, her heels clicking on the pavement. For a moment, I expect she’s going to slam the door and walk away, but she doesn’t. Instead, Lenora Vogel leans down to look at me, wearing a wicked, mischievous smile that makes me harder than ever. “I have no intention of losing my virginity to my parents’ former bang buddy.”

Then, before I can regain some semblance of logical brain activity in the wake of this pronouncement, she wiggles her fingers at me, beaming. “Night night, Holden.”

She slams the door and walks toward the apartment building, taking my ability to think with her.