Chapter 7
Breck
Remy walks into the restaurant, and I nearly knock over my water glass when standing up.
I have to force myself not to stare. Her copper hair is down for once, falling in waves past her shoulders, and all I can think about is what it would feel like wrapped around my fist. Her lips are painted dark red, and I’ve spent the last two weeks trying not to imagine what they’d feel like when she kisses, or how they’d feel against my skin.
Enzo notices how good she looks, too. He goes completely still, his phone forgotten in his hand, staring at her like he’s never seen a woman before.
Ansel rises more smoothly than I did, but I catch the slight hitch in his movement, the way his knuckles go white against the chair as she approaches.
“Sorry I’m late.” Remy stops at our table, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “There was some traffic. Thanks again for sending Joshua to pick me up.”
“You’re not late,” I tell her. “You’re perfect.” And I cannot believe I just said that out loud.
Her cheeks flush pink.
“I mean, on time. You’re on time.”
Ansel finally finds his voice. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks.” She smooths down her dress, and the movement draws my attention to the curve of her hips, the way the fabric stretches across her ass. “I wasn’t sure what to wear. I don’t do fancy dinners very often.”
Enzo pulls out the chair next to him. “You made the right choice.”
She sits, and I force myself to do the same, though every nerve ending in my body is hyperaware of her presence. I already know I’ll be thinking about that dress later when I’m alone in my room with my hand wrapped around my cock.
I know I shouldn’t be attracted to her like this.
She’s an employee, and she’s so brilliant that my brothers and I don’t ever want to risk losing her. And then there’s the fact that she used to date Damon, a fact that is starting to bother me more and more every time I think about it.
But fuck, I can’t stop thinking about her.
A server appears with wine, and Ansel handles the ordering, like always.
Once the server leaves, Ansel raises his glass. “To Remy. For finding our breach.”
Enzo and I lift our glasses. “To Remy.”
Remy’s cheeks flush again as she touches her glass to ours. “You got more information on the person who was behind it, right? With the name and IP address that I gave to you?”
Ansel sets his glass down. “The individual responsible was a former employee. Someone we let go six months ago for performance issues. He was bitter about it, apparently.”
"Bitter former employee. Shocking." She leans forward. "Please tell me you're going to make his life very difficult."
“Law enforcement is already involved.” Ansel takes another sip of his wine. “Our attorneys are pursuing charges under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act. Unauthorized access, potential felony charges, fines, and possibly prison time.”
Remy’s glass pauses halfway to her mouth. “That’s… intense.”
Enzo leans back in his chair. “We don’t know what he was planning to do. But if he was trying to destroy our company, he deserves what’s coming.”
Our food arrives, and the conversation shifts to lighter topics: upcoming projects, industry gossip, a tech conference in San Francisco next month. Remy relaxes incrementally, laughing at Enzo’s dry humor and trading barbs with Ansel about encryption standards.
I watch her more than I should. She gestures when she’s excited about a topic.
Her eyes light up when she talks about code.
She tries to hide the small smile that appears when one of us makes her laugh.
And every time she reaches for her wine glass, the dress shifts, revealing more skin and more freckles I want to trace with my tongue.
Ansel watches her, too. His gaze lingers when she’s not looking, tracking her movements with heightened intensity.
And Enzo. Fuck. Enzo looks at her like he’s calculating exactly how long it would take to get her out of that dress and into his bed.
It’s familiar, this dynamic. The three of us wanting the same woman.
We’ve shared women before, though not in any formal arrangement. More like a mutual understanding that when all three of us are interested, we figure out what works.
But this is different.
Remy isn’t some woman we met at a club or an industry event. She’s our employee. Our senior security consultant. The woman who saved our company from a potentially catastrophic breach.
And she’s Damon’s ex.
That last part should be enough to kill any interest. Damon is family. He has really done a lot to help build our company. We’ve been through hell together and trusted each other with everything.
But watching Remy…
I want her. And my brothers want her, too.
Ansel sets down his fork, his expression shifting into something more serious. “Remy, we’d like to offer you a position. Not as a contractor, but as a permanent member of our executive team.”
Remy blinks. “What?”
“Director of Security.” Ansel leans back, fingers drumming once against the table. “Full benefits, stock options, the works. You’ve proven you can handle it, and frankly, we’d be idiots to let you walk away when your contract ends.”
I pull up the offer on my phone and slide it across the table to her.
Remy picks up my phone, her eyes scanning the numbers. Her breath catches. “This is generous. Very generous.”
Enzo crosses his arms. “You’re worth it.”
She looks between the three of us, searching for the catch. “You’re serious.”
“Completely.” Ansel holds her gaze. “We want you at Jacobs Security. Long-term.”
Remy sets the phone down carefully, like she’s afraid it might shatter. “I need to think about it.”
I retrieve my phone, letting my fingers brush hers in the process. The contact lasts half a second, but I watch goosebumps rise on her arm where our skin touched. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”
She meets my eyes. “Thank you for believing in me.”
My voice drops an octave. “You make it easy.”
Ansel clears his throat. “Anyone want dessert?”
An hour later, we’re at a bar downtown. The lighting is dim, the whiskey is good, and the dance floor is crowded enough to feel intimate without being claustrophobic.
Ansel nurses his second whiskey, watching the crowd. Enzo leans against the bar, ignoring the blonde who’s been trying to catch his eye for the past ten minutes. All his focus is on Remy.
Remy sits between them, laughing at whatever the bartender said, her hair catching the light every time she moves.
I should stay where I am and keep my distance. Instead, I cross to her and extend my hand. “Dance with me.”
She looks up, surprise flickering across her features. “What?”
“Dance with me.” I keep my hand extended, steady. “Unless you’re an awful dancer. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m not awful at anything.”
I believe it. And that statement makes me want to test that claim, preferably without clothes.
“Prove it.”
She takes my hand.
I lead her onto the dance floor, pulling her close enough that I can feel how soft she is, how perfectly she fits against me.
The music is slow, with a rhythm that makes bodies move in sync without thinking. Her hands rest on my shoulders, tentative at first, then more confident as we start to move together.
She looks up at me through her lashes. “Everyone sees you as the charmer. But you’re trouble.”
My hands settle on her waist, and my thumbs graze the exposed skin of her lower back. “You have no idea. But you like it.”
“I do not.”
I pull her closer, until there’s barely any space between us. “Liar. You’ve been looking at me all night.”
“You’ve been looking at me, too.”
“I have.” No point denying it.
Her breath catches. “Breck—”
But she doesn’t finish her thought. She leans in, her body pressing against mine, and I pull her flush against me.
Every soft curve molds to my body, and I can feel her heart racing.
I lean down until her lips are inches from mine, close enough to taste the wine on her breath.
My hand slides lower on her back, fingers splaying possessively across her spine.
I’m going to kiss her.
Right here, in the middle of this crowded bar, with my brothers watching from across the room. The whiskey is doing the thinking now, and I'm letting it.
My other hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head back.
And then she pulls back. Not far, but enough to break the moment. Her hands slide from my shoulders, and she takes a step away.
Her voice is unsteady. “I should go. It’s late.”
“Remy, stay.”
She looks up at me. “As I said, you’re trouble.” She swallows. "I can tell you've done this before. Made someone feel like they matter. But I can’t afford to be this stupid right now.”
Her assessment catches me completely off guard. Honestly, I’m just used to women doing whatever I want.
And I don’t know how to respond.
She nods slowly, like my hesitation is answer enough. “That’s what I thought.”
She turns and walks back toward the table where Ansel and Enzo are watching us with varying degrees of concern and curiosity.
I follow, my brain still trying to catch up with what just happened.
Remy grabs her purse from the bar. “I should head home.”
Ansel stands immediately. “Of course. I’ll call Joshua.”
“I’ve got it.” I pull out my phone, needing something to do with my hands. Joshua answers on the second ring. “We’re ready. Can you swing by and pick us up?”
“Be there in five minutes, Mr. Jacobs.”
I end the call and pocket my phone. “He’ll be here in five.”
Remy nods, not quite meeting my eyes.
Ansel catches my arm as Remy moves toward the door. His voice drops low enough that only I can hear. “She’s the best employee we’ve ever had. Don’t fuck this up or get us involved in a lawsuit.”
He’s right.
“I won’t.” My response is automatic.
Ansel studies me for a long moment, then releases my arm. “Enzo and I will settle the bill. Take Remy outside and wait for Joshua.” He grabs my arm again. “And if you said something to upset her, you’d better make it right by the time we meet you outside.”
I nod and follow Remy toward the exit.
The night air is cool against my overheated skin. Remy stands a few feet away, arms crossed, staring at the street like she’s willing Joshua’s car to appear through sheer force of concentration.
“Remy—”
“Don’t.” She cuts me off without looking at me. “Whatever you’re about to say, just don’t.”
I should tell her the truth. That it was real. That I’ve been thinking about her for weeks. But instead of telling her what I’m thinking, I follow Ansel’s advice and try to make this right.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “That was unprofessional. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s okay.” She’s still not looking at me. “I’m sure the alcohol played a role.”
It wasn't the whiskey. Not even close. But I play along.
"Definitely the whiskey. Very irresponsible of this establishment." I shove my hands in my pockets. "So... professional boundaries. Those are a thing we should probably have."
"Oh, absolutely. Very important. Huge fans of boundaries over here." She's already moving toward the curb where Joshua is pulling up.
She doesn’t wait for our driver to open the door for her.
Ansel and Enzo emerge from the bar as Remy climbs into the SUV and takes one of the captain’s seats. I follow, sliding into the rear seat. Enzo takes the other captain’s seat, and Ansel sits next to me.
The space feels too small.
Joshua pulls into traffic, and silence fills the car. Remy stares out the window. Ansel scrolls through his phone. I sit there like an idiot, hyperaware of the space between Remy and me that might as well be a canyon.
When we pull up to Remy’s apartment building, she’s out of the car as soon as Joshua puts the SUV in park.
“Thank you for dinner.” She directs this at all of us, her smile bright, professional, and completely fake. “And for the job offer. My answer is yes. I accept.”
She disappears into her building without looking back.
Joshua pulls away from the curb, and I can feel Enzo’s eyes on me from the seat in front of me. “So, how badly did you just fuck that up?”
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.