With Me in Seattle Bundle One (114 page)

“Don’t ever lie to me, sunshine. I don’t ever want you to run until your legs give out on you like this again. The only time your legs will shake like this is if I’m inside you.”

My mouth drops open, and my eyes go wide. He glares at me for another heartbeat and then resumes his work on my legs, pampering them and massaging them.

When was the last time someone wanted to take care of me? I don’t even remember.

If I’m inside you.

Damn.

As tempting as that sounds, that just can’t happen.

He rubs my other leg, and as I start to feel better, I pull away from him and stand up.

“Thanks, I’m fine.” I can’t meet his eyes. It’s too easy to like this guy, to want to give in to his touch and his kindness.

He’s family.

He’s a celebrity.

Not going there.

He walks with me back toward my condo. We ran in a circle, so my place isn’t far. As we pass my favorite café, Leo grips my elbow to pull me to a stop, and I can’t help the flinch as I pull away.

His eyes go hot as he scowls down at me. I clear my throat. He’s watching me, like he wants to ask me something, but he just sighs.

“Let’s grab some breakfast.” He gestures to the café and loses his scowl. I shouldn’t spend any more time with him. But the thought of going home with no job to go to and really nothing planned for today doesn’t excite me.

“Okay.”

He leads me to a booth, and we settle in across from each other.

“Coffee?” the waitress asks as she approaches the table.

“Sure,” Leo responds.

“No, thanks,” I murmur and grab the menu. “Just orange juice.”

“No coffee?” Leo asks as the waitress leaves.

“No.” I wrinkle my nose in disgust and read the menu, as if I don’t already know what I want. “I hate coffee.”

“You do realize that you live in Seattle, right?” He chuckles and takes a sip of his black coffee. “I think enjoying coffee is a law.”

“Don’t call the coffee police. I never developed a taste for it. I love this place.” I close the menu and sit back in my seat and can’t avoid looking at him anymore.

My insides do a double flip. It should be illegal to look like him. His hair is wet, but his style is a messy fauxhawk anyway, so it looks fine. He’s casual in his running clothes, tattooed hands wrapped around his mug, and it’s easy to forget that he’s a celebrity.

He’s just a guy.

The waitress brings my juice and takes our orders and leaves us.

“So.” He leans back and braces an elbow on the back of the booth. “Why aren’t you working today?”

“How do you know I’m not?” I ask.

“You said last night that you’re not working anymore. Why not?” His eyes narrow slightly, and he’s watching me closely.

No lying.

“I got fired,” I answer and take a sip of juice, trying to clean the bad taste that word left behind.

Fired.

His eyebrows climb into his hairline in surprise. “Why?”

I shrug and look down at my juice. I don’t want to tell him this.

He leans in and takes my hand in his, and I can’t stop the instinctual jump that comes with being touched.

What is wrong with me?

“Why do you flinch every time I touch you?” he asks in a low, tight voice.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

“Look at me.” His voice leaves no room for argument, so I look up into his angry gray eyes. “Tell me.”

I shrug again and shake my head. “It’s stupid. I’m no victim, Leo. You don’t know me well, but I would think you’d know me well enough by now to know that I don’t take shit from anyone.”

“Okay, go on.” He keeps my hand in his and rubs his thumb over the backs of my knuckles.

God, that feels good.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” And that’s the truth.

“Okay, fair enough. We’ll save it.” He smiles reassuringly but doesn’t release my hand.

Where is our food?

Not that I’m hungry now, but I’d really like to have my hand back. He runs his thumb over my knuckles again, sending a tingle through me. I slide my hand out and away from his against the table and grip my juice. My hand is cold, not just because of the cool juice, but because of the loss of contact.

He smiles softly, and I find myself smiling back.

“You are beautiful when you smile, Sam.”

“Um, thank you.”

“Tell me about your job,” he demands and sits back as our food is delivered.

“I was the editor at
Emerald City
magazine for eight years.” I sprinkle pepper on my omelet and take a bite.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah, I liked it. I was good at it.”

“So what happened?”

“About a year ago, my boss wanted me to run a piece on Luke. He figured since Luke’s my brother, I should be able to get an exclusive with him, his new wife, run a spread in the magazine.”

“But you’re not a reporter,” Leo interrupts with a frown.

“No, but he wanted me to make an exception, since he knew I wouldn’t let anyone else do it.” I lower my fork to my plate and take a sip of juice. “I told him absolutely not.” I shake my head as I remember the anger on my boss’s face when I told him I wouldn’t do the piece.

“What made you tell him no?” Leo asks.

“Luke is fiercely private. There is no way in hell I’d put him in my magazine. Besides, it’s insulting to ask me to write a piece on my family, and then get pissed when I say no.” I scowl, pissed all over again.

“Okay, so what does that have to do with you getting fired now?” he asks and eats his pancakes.

“How can you eat pancakes and stay thin?” I ask before thinking.

He smirks, that piercing catching my eye. “Genetics.”

“Lucky bastard,” I mutter, earning a belly laugh from him, and my whole being just stills.

My God, he’s amazing when he laughs.

“Anyway,” I continue, shaking myself awake, “last week the same boss came to me and ripped me a new asshole for not telling him before that I’m linked to Will Montgomery through my family.”

“Fuck,” Leo whispers.

“He wanted me to pull some strings, get an exclusive set up for the magazine, and again I refused.” I shake my head and push my plate away, too angry to eat. “Leo, they’re my family. I’m not ever going to use them to further my career. Ever.”

“What did he do to you?” he asks quietly. His fingers have gripped his coffee mug tightly in anger on my behalf.

“He yelled, called me a pussy.” I smirk as Leo takes my hand in his again. “I said, ‘No, Bob, I
have
a pussy. I understand if you don’t know the difference.’”

“Good for you.” Leo chuckles. “I bet he didn’t like that.”

“No, he wasn’t impressed.” I sigh and absently trace the letters on Leo’s fingers. “He said that I wasn’t a team player, and if I’m not willing to go the extra mile for the good of the magazine, then maybe I shouldn’t be with the company anymore.”

I bite my lip, tracing the ink on his hand now. “Maybe he’s right,” I whisper. “I loved that stupid job.”

“What does your family say?”

My gaze jerks to his, and my stomach twists painfully. “They don’t know. Please don’t say anything.”

“Why don’t they know?” He frowns.

“Because, they don’t need to worry about me, and I don’t want them to feel obligated to help me. I’m fine. I’ll figure it out. I have job offers in other cities, but I don’t want to move away from my family. Stupid, huh?”

He turns his hand over and grips my own tightly. “It’s not stupid. This is your home. I missed it, too.”

“Why are you home?” I ask, enjoying him. He’s so damn easy to talk to. Maybe too easy. I probably shouldn’t be talking so much, but I can’t talk to my family about this stuff.

They’d freak the hell out.

“I missed Meg. Tired of the road. I needed a break.”

“How long since you had a break?” I ask and sip my juice.

He laughs humorlessly. “We’ve been going nonstop for the better part of five years. The three last tours were back-to-back, three years long.”

“Three years of traveling?”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder you’re tired.”

He nods and smiles, but his eyes suddenly look bone-tired. Weary.

“You ready?” He asks.

Not really.

“Sure.”

He pulls me out of the booth, pays the check and leads me back out to the sidewalk and toward home.

“How are your legs?” he asks casually as we walk down the busy sidewalk. The city is waking up.

“Better, thanks.”

“I mean it. Don’t do that again.”

“I’ll do whatever I please,” I retort.

“Stubborn woman,” he mutters and glares down at me. 

I can’t help but laugh. “Gee, I’ve never heard that before. I’m so easygoing.” I flutter my eyelashes at him playfully.

“Smart-ass.”

We approach the front door to my condo.

This could be awkward.

He just pulls me in for a hug, wraps those strong arms around me and tugs me into him, against his chest, and rocks me back and forth for just a moment. I frown when I feel him kiss my head.

What is this?

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he whispers and pulls away, his gray eyes soft and a smile on those lips. “Are you sure you don’t have a favorite band?” he asks hopefully as he backs toward his car.

I laugh and shake my head. “Yeah… Matchbox Twenty is pretty good.”

“You slay me.” He grips both hands over his heart.

“Go home,” I tell him with a smile and pull the door open, step into the warm lobby and look back as he lowers himself into his car. He winks and waves as he drives away.

I am in so much trouble.

Chapter Three

~Leo~

“What are your weekend plans?” I ask Sam as we jog up her street. It’s Friday, and we’ve run together every morning this week. Monday set the tone. We run, we have breakfast, I walk her home and leave.

Jesus, I want to kiss her again.

But I think she needs a friend more than anything, and damn if I don’t like her. When she forgets to keep those walls erected around her and loosens up a bit, she’s funny as hell and fun to talk with.

And it’s certainly not a hardship to watch her run in her little yoga pants and tank. She has a strong, lean body.

I wonder what those legs would feel like wrapped around my waist.

“Every day is a weekend, Leo,” she responds drily, bringing me out of my fantasy. “But I think I’m meeting up with Nat and Jules for coffee tomorrow afternoon.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

She laughs. Her big blue eyes light up, and she wrinkles her adorable nose at me. “You clearly don’t understand the girl definition of having coffee.”

“Enlighten me.” We’re both starting to breathe heavily now. When we started this on Monday, I was sure that our little runs wouldn’t challenge me, but Sam is a strong runner.

“We’ll meet at a coffee shop, buy a beverage, and gossip for a few hours.”

“What do you talk about?” I ask, although I really don’t care. I just want to hear that sexy, raspy voice of hers.

“I can’t tell you that. It’s girl stuff.”

“C’mon, I won’t tell anyone. Swear.” I cross my heart and grin down at her.

“Nope.” She shakes her head and smiles some more.

“Fine. Then I won’t tell you my gossip.” I shrug nonchalantly and grin.

“What gossip?” she asks.

“Not telling.”

“Fine.” She shrugs and glances at me from the corner of her eye, trying to hold a smile in. Finally, she laughs and shoves me in the shoulder. “You don’t have any gossip, you jerk.”

Before I can respond, my toe catches on a raised portion of the sidewalk, and I pitch forward, face-first, onto the sidewalk.

“Shit!”

My knee catches the most grief from the fall, and I roll out of it and back onto my feet.

“Are you okay?” Sam grips my upper arms in her strong, little hands, her eyes wide and worried, searching my face, panting.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“I’m fine. No big.”

Her eyes take a journey down my body, and she gasps when she sees my knee. “No, you’re not! You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scrape, Sam.”

“You’re bleeding,” she repeats and squats in front of me, examining the tiny scrape.

I didn’t even know it was there until she said something. “It doesn’t hurt. Come on, let’s keep running.”

“No way. I’m taking you home and patching you up. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you that hard.” She stands, and her eyes find mine again, her brows pulled together in a frown.

I laugh and run my thumb over her frown lines, ignoring her little flinch. “I’m fine.”

“Come on. Run’s over.” She takes my hand and turns us back toward her apartment, walking quickly.

Could she be any more adorable?

We reach her building, and for the first time this week, she leads me in with her, waves at the doorman and pulls me into the elevator.

“This is a nice building,” I comment, watching her face.

I can’t get enough of her face.

“Yeah, I like it.”

She’s suddenly digging around in her bra and unfastens her key from her tight sports bra.

“I do love your storage system.” And I want to dig around in there.

Sam smirks and leads me to her apartment.

I am not prepared for Sam’s apartment.

The space is open and surprisingly big. Light. There are large windows, offering plenty of sunshine.

I smirk to myself. Appropriate.

But instead of the modern, sleek, cold home I was expecting, I’m met with big, inviting furniture in reds and blues, plants and flowers, fashion magazines on the coffee table, her laptop closed on the couch. There is a gas fireplace in the corner, filmy white curtains on the windows, and an upright piano against the far wall.

She plays?

“Come on in. We’ll go back to the master bathroom. That’s where my first aid kit is.” She smiles and throws her key in a bowl by the door.

“This is a great place.”

Her smile is wide and as inviting as her home. “Thank you.”

“Did you decorate it yourself?” It’s so feminine and sweet.

Like her.

“Yeah, it’s all me.” She laughs and looks around with me. She takes my hand and leads me down a hallway, through her bedroom, all full of soft pillows and fluffy bedding and more reds and grays and white.