Chapter 1 #2
She blew out a breath. “Fine.” She suspected no one ever said no to Vander.
He reached out and touched her cheek. “You okay, Maggie?”
He was former Ghost Ops—the top-secret, special forces team made up of the military’s best of the best. It meant he saw too much.
She pasted on the bright smile. “Yep.”
“Okay, see you tonight.” He paused. “Oh, and Ace is back from the job in New Orleans. I’m sure he’ll want to catch up with you, too.”
Now her smile felt brittle. “Great. Sure. See you tonight.”
* * *
Ace Oliveira sipped his beer, his gaze aimed at the door.
The Norcross Security party was in full swing.
Vander put on a couple of these shindigs each year.
The Alchemist Bar wasn’t far from the Norcross Security office in South Beach, with an industrial, steampunk décor, and good drinks.
He liked the exposed-brick wall, the old-fashioned, leather armchairs, and all the brass accents.
Ace sipped again, and scanned the room. It was filled with Norcross Security employees and contractors, clients, and people’s partners. Everyone was laughing and having a good time.
He wasn’t. He felt edgy.
He’d been in New Orleans on a cyber-security job for almost two weeks, and before that, in New York for a few days to help Vander’s friends—Maverick Rivera, Zane Roth, and Liam Kensington.
And before that, a certain leggy, smart-mouthed brunette had been dodging him. Maggie had been ignoring his calls, and conveniently missing him by a few minutes when he’d tried to track her down.
He took another sip, his fingers clenching on the glass bottle.
For the last few weeks, he’d had the taste of her in his mouth, he’d dreamed of those long legs wrapped tight around his hips, and his cock deep inside her. He knew just how tight she was. Knew the hungry sounds she made.
A part of him knew he should never have touched her, but he hadn’t thought about that at the jewelry gala.
That night, he hadn’t been able to think through his need for her.
That dress, that looked like liquid gold on her slim curves, had short-circuited his brain.
Her short, dark hair had showed off her slim neck—the one vulnerable point on the feisty pilot who never showed any vulnerabilities. He’d wanted to kiss and bite it.
After the drama of the gala—where Rome had saved his princess from a stalker—Ace had taken Maggie home.
They hadn’t slept. They’d fucked, again and again, until his bed was a shambles.
Every time he’d sunk inside her, he’d kept hoping the need for her would lessen.
He released a slow breath.
When he’d woken after that night, she’d been gone. Like a damn dream, except that her smell had still been on his sheets.
Even now, he felt a spurt of hot anger. He’d tried to call, track her down, but she’d avoided him. Then work had kept him away.
He was done.
He was not letting her fucking avoid him anymore.
Vander had told him that she was coming tonight, so Ace was going to pin her down and…
Fuck . He still wanted her. Under his hands. On his cock. In his bed.
Shit . Maggie was young, and his friend, and she worked for Norcross. It had messy written all over it. And Ace didn’t do messy.
He looked up. He saw Rhys nuzzling his woman, Haven.
Vander’s younger brother was cross-eyed in love.
Nearby, their sister Gia was arguing with her man, Saxon.
Saxon worked for Norcross as well, and his arms were crossed over his chest as she waved hers around.
Suddenly, Saxon yanked her into his arms and ended the argument with a deep kiss.
“Hi, Ace.”
He looked down at the curvaceous blonde in a form-fitting green dress. Harlow Carlson smiled up at him.
“Hey, Harlow.” He didn’t see Easton, but the oldest Norcross wouldn’t be very far from his fiancée.
“How was New Orleans?” she asked.
“Steamy.” He’d worked his ass off to get the job done a few days early and get home. He hadn’t even been tempted to explore the nightlife.
“I bet that your brother missed you,” Harlow said.
Ace smiled. “Yeah. I saw Rodrigo this morning.” His younger brother had suffered a drug overdose the first time he’d tried drugs as a teenager, and it had left him with an acquired brain injury. He lived in a great care facility, and Ace visited him every week.
“How are you?” Ace asked Harlow.
She smiled. “Great. Easton is awesome, even when he drives me crazy.”
The pair were living together, and she’d been his assistant. “Still working with him?”
“I’m back with my regular boss.” Harlow smiled. “Easton seems to find a lot more reasons to visit Meredith these days.” Harlow looked across the room. “And my parents are doing well.”
Ace eyed the older couple. Harlow’s father had gotten into debt with some bad people, and Harlow had been dragged into the mess until Easton had intervened.
Harlow made an annoyed sound and he followed her gaze. A young boy, about eleven or so, was tugging on Vander’s sleeve.
“I need to extract Daniel before he stomps on Vander’s last nerve.”
Ace grinned. Daniel was a street kid that Harlow’s parents had taken in. He’d decided he wanted to work for Vander and took every opportunity to convince Vander to hire him. Harlow hurried off.
A sweet laugh filled the air, and Ace turned his head.
Sofie didn’t look much like a princess when she was snort-laughing over a cocktail.
Rome sat on a curved bench seat beside her, his big body sprawled out, although Ace highly doubted that Rome was as relaxed as he looked.
The man was always aware of the room, the people in it, the entrances and exits.
It made him a damn good bodyguard. He was smiling at his woman as he reached out to toy with a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair.
“Hi, there.”
Ace dragged his gaze away. A small, curvy blonde beamed up at him, wearing a clingy, blue top and tight jeans.
“Hi,” he said.
“I’m friends with Amy. She’s mentioned you. Said you’re Brazilian.”
Amy was an assistant who worked at the Norcross office.
“Yeah, I’m Ace.”
“Jessica. It’s a great party.” She leaned into him and her flirty, floral perfume hit him. “Amy said you work with computers?”
“Yeah.”
“I work in software implementation for finance.” Her smile widened. “Probably far less interesting than security.” She rested her hand on his forearm, the invitation obvious.
Something made him look up. He saw Maggie standing just inside the door of the bar, staring at him.
A jolt went through him. She wore wide-legged, black pants and a strapless red top that hugged her slim torso tightly. She had beautiful toned shoulders and arms.
Then her gaze dropped to Jessica pressing against his side.
Maggie’s face hardened, then she swiveled and walked out.
Fuck .
He pushed away from Jessica and shoved through the crowd. He stormed out the door.
Maggie was walking down the sidewalk, past the outside tables packed with more customers, her long legs moving quickly.
“ Maggie .”
She sped up.
Cursing, Ace ran after her. Catching her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Lopez, what the hell? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Why won’t you even talk to me?”
Her chin jutted out. “It looked like you were busy.”
“I was just being friendly.”
She made a sound. “Friendly, right.”
He leaned in. “Maggie, we need to talk.”
God, this close, her spicy scent hit him—something that made him think of vanilla and berries. It made him remember having her naked under him. His mouth traveling over all those places she’d dabbed with that scent.
A bus rumbled past and he heard loud laughter from the tables nearby, but he focused on Maggie’s face. There was a watery gleam in her dark eyes. They were shades darker than his own brown eyes.
Shit . “Are you crying?”
“No.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have come.”
Ace felt something close to panic. “Maggie, I don’t want what we did to change anything. You’re my friend.”
Unreadable emotions flitted over her face. “ Friend .” She gave a harsh laugh.
“Maggie?” He gripped her smooth shoulders. Crap. He wanted to stroke her skin, kiss the back of her neck.
“Things have already changed, Ace. We can’t go back.”
His gut clenched. “Maggie—”
She lifted her chin. “I’m pregnant.”