Fire with Fire (Crash and Burn, Book 3) (A Military Romance) (7 page)

I
peek
down at the time on my phone. Shit, I’m running late. There’s a snag in my hose on the outside of the right leg, so I strip them off and toss them in the bathroom garbage. Screw it, I shaved yesterday. It’s hot as hell outside anyway. The August temperature has made my skin sticky, despite not having stepped outside yet.

I twist my hair into a messy bun and pin it, slick lip-gloss across my lips, and call it a day. I don’t want to keep Cole and Xander waiting for too long. It’s the unveiling of the bar remodel, and I’m beyond excited to show them all the hard work I’ve been putting in.

I know they’re going to love it, especially since they’ve already seen most of it, but I’m also nervous for their final approval. Still, this is my favorite part, the unveiling of all our hard work.

I slip into wedges and hop in my car, barreling down the streets toward the bar. Last month, Xander decided to change the bar’s name so it would have an even fresher start. Instead of being Mickey’s Pub, it’s now called Bar Halloway. He doesn’t know, but I had a sign created and hung outside, plus another for behind the interior bar.

When I finally get at the building, pulling into a parking spot, I’m relieved to see the brothers standing outside, talking to their dad. I wasn’t sure he was going to come, so it makes me feel glad to see him present. I’m sure this has been hard for him to some degree, watching the bar he bought years ago being changed from his vision.

I head over to the small group, smiling. Cole sees me and his eyes warm, and my heart flutters. Three months since we first said we loved each other. It’s been amazing. We spend almost all our free time together, and he even moved in to my house a couple of months ago. Waking up in his arms…there’s nothing else that can compare to that feeling.

Contrary to all my fears, our relationship has organically flowed into what it is now. We still laugh and joke and hang out the way we did when we were just friends. Only we touch and kiss and share more romantic affection, too. It’s the best of both worlds, one I couldn’t have had with anyone else.

This man gets me, knows me, loves me. I might not understand why, but I’m not letting it go.

“You look gorgeous,” Cole says, kissing me right on the lips.

I kiss him back for a moment, then lean away and laugh. Swat at his chest. “I’m here in official work capacity. We have to keep it business for now.”

Cole leans toward me, his muscles compelling me to reach up and stroke his upper arms. God, he’s so damn sexy. “Business now. Pleasure later.”

“I promise,” I whisper back.

He steps away, in professional mode as well, and follows me to his brother and father. They’re both beaming, sliding glances at the covered sign above the entryway.

“Do we get to see what’s under that?” Xander says.

I nod. “You ready?” When I tug the sheet off the sign, all of them exhale hard. I swallow and spin around, and my fears are assuaged when I see approval clear on their faces. “So it’s okay?”

The sign is simple, crafted from wood glossed and carved to look like some of the ornate woodwork inside. It was done by hand, a surprise for them, which I paid for out of pocket.

“Kitten. This is gorgeous.” Cole shakes his head in disbelief.

His dad’s eyes well with tears and he sniffles. The emotion on his face humbles me. It’s clear this is difficult for him, but he’s also pleased so far. I hope that emotion carries along when we go inside.

“Follow me,” I tell them, opening the front door. While we worked on the final stages earlier this week, I forbade them from entering. The bar has been closed for me to do all the last-minute touches to make this place shine.

They’re quiet as we walk into the entryway. I point out the changes in the wood’s color, which they’d seen before, then explain other modifications and updates I made. Sunshine pours in from the new windows, and the whole place glows with ambient overhead light.

We move through the main bar, then to the kitchen, and Xander does a lot of excited nodding as I show off the state-of-the-art kitchen we installed. It’s ready for an expanded menu. When we move to the patio, Cole’s dad draws in a sharp breath.

I turn to him. “Is this okay?” I’m aware he’s not going to be owning this bar for much longer, since he and Xander found a potential investor to buy out his portion of the business. But his approval still is important to me.

“It’s wonderful. Lila would have loved it.” The words are simple, and we stand outside in silence, the sun beating down on our skin, the breeze blowing across the leaves of the young trees planted in the far back of the property. Everything is clean, all set for customers.

Last, we go to the basement. I can’t help but smile as I think about how scary this place used to be. We did a lot of cleanup to make it much less frightening, took out that god-awful bathroom, added more storage space. The room is freshly painted and stocked full, ready for use.

Cole’s hand brushes my lower back, and I lean into his touch. When his fingers stroke me through my thin shirt, I know he’s thinking about what first happened here between us. The truth-or-dare night, where our world was flipped on its head.

My lips quirk, and I give a subtle nod toward the corner. The blanket we used the first time we were together is folded on the bottom shelf. He barks out a laugh and shakes his head at me, and I laugh too.

“What’s so funny?” Xander asks.

“Nothing, just a goofy inside joke,” I tell him. “You guys ready to go upstairs and finalize everything? It’s almost time to open your doors, right?” The employees would be arriving within a half hour, and I knew they’d want time to explore the changes, familiarize themselves with the new layout before customers came in.

We head toward the basement stairs, me and Cole in the back. When I step onto the first step, his hand holds me in place. We let the two other men proceed up, and I turn and give in to the kiss I’ve been wanting to give Cole since we came inside.

Cole sighs against me, his body scorching, and I savor the intensity building between us. My lower belly throbs in anticipation. Clearly my body remembers every moment of what happened in here too and would love a repeat performance. With a groan, I make myself pull back.

He shoots me a crooked grin. “I can tell exactly what you’re thinking right now.”

The flush on my cheeks is a dead giveaway. “It’s hard being fair-skinned,” I bemoan.

“Come here.” He tugs me toward the middle of the room, still holding my hand. His eyes are suddenly intense on mine, and I feel another surge of love for him, this man who sees everything in me and loves me anyway.

“You’re amazing,” I tell him.

“
You
are,” he counters. “Look what you’ve done to this place. It’s going to be a huge success because of your hard work.”

I shrug. “The contractors did most of the work.”

“Don’t be modest.” He takes a step toward me, gripping my hand harder. “Lauren, I love you so much.”

I feel myself melting. Man, I wish we were alone right now. I would love to feel him inside me, to christen this room. It’s insane how much I crave him. “I love you too, Cole.”

“You’re my best friend,” he continues. I feel my pulse skitter in my wrists when his thumbs stroke me there. “My best friend and the woman I love more than my own life. Being away from you for so many years was a special kind of torture, but I have to be glad that things went the way they did, if only because it brought us to where we are today.”

My heart throbs hard. “You’re my best friend too.” I can barely speak past a tightening throat. “Thank you for being by my side and trusting in me. And for taking a chance and daring me to kiss you.”

Cole stays quiet for a long moment, and I find myself starting to feel weird. Why is he just staring at me like that?

Then he lowers himself on one knee.

My chest gives a painful squeeze. I can’t say a word, just watch in silence when he digs into his pocket and pulls out a ring box. Oh God, oh God…

He flicks it open, and there’s a diamond solitaire nestled in black velvet. It’s stunning.

“I know this seems fast, given we just started dating a few months ago, but to me it isn’t. Lauren, I’ve been in love with you for so many years, and nothing in my life has ever felt so right. I can’t imagine living without you, and I don’t ever want to. We complement each other, bring out the best in each other. You make me laugh, you frustrate me, you drive me crazy. But I will never regret stepping off the ledge in the hope of being with you. It was worth the risk. I want you to marry me, be my wife. Will you?”

It takes me a moment to find my voice. “I love you, too.” I don’t realize I’m crying until tears streak down my cheeks, leaving wet trails on my skin. My heart is so full it might explode. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes.”

There’s the tiniest hint of a tremble in his fingers when he takes the ring out of the box, slides it onto my finger, and it isn’t until then I understand that he’s nervous. Did he really think I’d say no? My sweet, beautiful man. All mine, for the rest of my life.

I cup Cole’s smooth-shaven face and tug him to my mouth, and I show him without words exactly how I feel.

T
his was a gigantic mistake
.

That was Ivy Spellman’s very first thought as she sat down in the freezing cold conference room and waited for orientation to start.

There were approximately thirty temps all watching the front of the room, where Cullen Sharpe, CEO, stood in his perfect dark suit, his eyes scanning the group as if he was evaluating them and finding them lacking already.

This was a man who wouldn’t be denied anything and everything he wanted. He was, to put it plainly, stunningly handsome, but not in the superficial sense.

He was complex, Ivy decided almost immediately.

His eyes were intense and he had an animal magnetism and presence that was like nothing she’d ever come across.

Tall and broad-shouldered, his straight dark hair was styled perfectly, sweeping over his brow in a controlled way, as if it had been set in place by an engineer. His chin was long and square, cheekbones prominent.

The man’s black suit was immaculate, with nary a wrinkle or a speck of lint, even under the unforgiving bright overhead lights that made everyone else look slovenly and blotchy by comparison.

Ivy had mistakenly taken a seat in the front row and was now directly in his line of fire. His cold blue eyes were as gorgeous and frozen as the Alaskan tundra.

“As most of you are aware,” he finally began, “I’m the founder and CEO of Biomatrix Pharma.” He smiled coolly, without feeling. “You might be wondering why I’m here when surely there are others who could be talking in my place. And there’s a very simple reason for my being with you right now instead of attending to more pressing matters.”

Cullen Sharpe stopped, having noticed that his silver cufflink was slightly crooked. He adjusted it with one efficient tug of his perfectly manicured fingers, before looking at the group once more. “I’m here because I’m involved in
every single detail
of this company. There is nothing—and I mean nothing—too insignificant to escape my attention.”

Upon saying this, the CEO’s eyes fixed on Ivy, locked on her with such intensity that she nearly flinched.

Why is he staring at me?

Ivy wanted to swallow, but was afraid of the loud gulping noise that was sure to result. Her throat was dry and you could hear a pin drop in the room.

Finally, Cullen Sharpe’s piercing gaze moved away from her, as he turned and walked gracefully to the table in the front of the room where some refreshments were located and poured himself a cup of water. He took a small sip while everyone watched his every move and waited to see what the magnetic individual would say next.

Unlike most people who spoke in front of groups, Cullen Sharpe didn’t seem to care if he entertained or engaged them. He wasn’t trying to make them laugh, and he didn’t seem to mind making them wait either.

Around her, she could smell the sweat and desperation of her coworkers beneath their perfume and cologne and brand new office wear. She was sweating in the cold room just like everyone else, making her even colder.

Why didn’t I sit in the back?

Sitting in the front row was an old habit left over from her school days. From kindergarten through her final year of college, Ivy had always been the quiet, mousy student that sat in the first row, put her head down, took good notes and got good grades.

But this was different.

This was a real corporation—one of the largest and most prestigious drug companies in Boston—and sitting in the front row and hoping the “teacher” liked her wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

Cullen finished drinking and placed the cup of water on the refreshment table, striding back to center stage, facing them once more. His gaze landed on her briefly yet again.

He has the eyes of a wolf
, Ivy thought.
And is it my imagination or is he staring more at me than anyone else?

Definitely your imagination,
she told herself
. Cullen Sharpe doesn’t know you from a hole in the wall and he’s probably more interested in a random hole in a wall than he is some temp that came to do meaningless office work at his billion dollar company.

“We’ll be moving you to your cubicles at precisely eight thirty-five,” Cullen said, snapping her from her brief reverie. “Then you’ll begin the data entry project that you’ve been brought in to help us complete. The software program will automatically tally your work and log your speed and accuracy as you go. By noon, we’ll know how fast you work and what your error rate is. Those who fall into the bottom ten percent of the group in either category will be let go.” Cullen’s voice was unforgiving. “The business world is a cruel and unforgiving place, and we don’t waste time with employees who can’t keep up. Those at the bottom of the ladder will be cut loose in short order.”

A young man that couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three years old was sitting next to Ivy on the right. He gave her a sidelong glance and raised his eyebrows, smirking, as if he found the CEO’s theatrics and threats ridiculous.

Ivy started to grin in return, relieved to find that at least one person amongst them who wasn’t intimidated by the head of the company.

But then she looked up and saw that Cullen Sharpe was watching her yet again. His gaze flicked back and forth between her and the young man beside her.

Cullen’s disapproval of their shared grin was evident, despite the fact that his expression had hardly changed at all.

He walked closer to where they sat, and Ivy’s heart started to pound in her chest. He stopped in front of the young man and looked at him. “What’s your name?” Cullen demanded.

“Me?” the younger man asked, his voice cracking, suddenly looking less confident—more like a deer caught in the headlights.

“That’s usually how it works,” Cullen said. “When someone asks your name, they usually mean you.” He arched an eyebrow as the group of temps tittered nervously at his joke.

“I’m Lucas,” the younger man managed. He shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter.

“Lucas, I noticed you grinning at something I said a moment ago,” Cullen told him. “Please share with all of us what was so humorous. It’s always nice to have a person with a good sense of humor around the office.”

Lucas stumbled nervously over his words. “I didn’t—I mean…uh, nothing was funny.”

“Some people have a bad habit of smiling when they’re nervous,” Cullen said, waiting for him to respond to the assertion.

“I think that’s what happened,” Lucas said, seemingly relieved to have the excuse to fall back on. “Just a little nervous is all.”

Cullen glared at him. “Nervousness is fine, but disrespect is not something I tolerate. Ever.” He continued to stare the younger man down, and Lucas looked at the floor, clearly defeated before the first shot had been fired.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas mumbled.

Ivy realized she’d been wrong about Lucas’s grin. It turned out the younger man was just as intimidated by the situation as she was.

And Cullen Sharpe had proven very quickly and efficiently that he wasn’t there to play nice or be liked by the people who came to work for him.

He was standing so close to her now that the strong smell of masculinity and cologne drifted to Ivy’s nostrils—she was in awe of how much power he exuded.

The awkward moment was soon over with, as there was a knock on the door and a tall, elegant, yet severe blond woman entered the room. When she came inside, Cullen nodded to her and then turned to the group. “Everyone, I’m pleased to introduce your manager, Emma Marks. She’ll be taking over from here, and you’re to go to her with any questions or concerns you might have.”

“Thank you, Mister Sharpe,” she said, smiling and batting her eyelashes at him.

Ivy disliked her on sight. Was it because the blond woman seemed almost too familiar with the CEO?

I hate women like her. She’s just sucking up to the boss and it’s annoying.

But Ivy thought perhaps the reason for her instant dislike of the new manager had more to do with jealousy than anything else. She was jealous that the blond woman knew Cullen Sharpe and was comfortable with him.

“And now, I’m afraid I do have to remove myself from the meeting,” Cullen announced. Ivy felt her heart sink. As frightened as she was of the man, something about him was so utterly compelling that she didn’t want him to leave.

“I can take it from here,” Emma Marks replied.

He moved toward the door and then stopped, as if he’d forgotten some last detail. “Emma, there’s a board meeting at ten o’clock. Please make sure you have my coffee to me at a quarter past the hour.”

The blond woman nodded again. “Of course,” she said.

And then the most surprising and shocking thing of all happened. The CEO turned and found Ivy once more, his eyes locking on her without any uncertainty.

Cullen pointed directly at Ivy as he spoke to Emma Marks. “And I want
that girl
to deliver the coffee this morning,” he said. “Have
her
bring it to me.”

Ivy sat there, stunned, still reeling even after Cullen Sharpe left the room.

His words echoed in her mind over and over again, and she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And the way he’d seemed to remember her, out of everyone else in the room. She couldn’t get over the sensation that Cullen Sharpe was planning something for her.

* * *

W
hen Ivy went
to the bathroom during the brief ten-minute break, she found three other temps in there, quietly whispering and giggling about something.

But the moment she entered the restroom, the three young women went deathly quiet and their smiles disappeared.

I’ve been marked
, Ivy thought.
Like I have a disease, something catching
.

The girls hurriedly left the bathroom and then she was alone.

I should just quit
, she thought as she quickly used the facilities and then washed her hands, smelling the strong scent of bleach and cleaning products in her nostrils.

The bathroom was so clean that she would’ve been comfortable eating off the floor. Everything at Biometrix Pharma was like that—probably because of
him
.

He made sure everything was spotless, probably walked around the place with a white glove on his hand, checking for dust and dirt on every surface.

Cullen Sharpe
.

Just thinking his name was like reciting a magical incantation—dangerous. Why had Cullen Sharpe picked Ivy, of all people, to bring him his coffee?

She didn’t want that job.

And she was already deathly afraid of him. Sure, he was handsome—actually he was devastatingly sexy and powerful—which was entirely the problem. Ivy wasn’t comfortable around people like Cullen Sharpe…confident, self-assured, successful and smart and rich.

She was introverted, preferring the company of books to most people.

I can always do something else to make money.

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, noting the ever-present pale skin, the freckles that she’d always felt certain were unattractive, and the frizzy hair that never quite seemed to stay styled.

There was nothing
wrong
with her per se, but she always had felt something was just slightly off compared to everyone else.

And coming to Biometrix Pharma proved that she was right in having such doubts.

She quite clearly didn’t belong here. Her skirt and blouse combo that she’d purchased a week ago at JC Penny was low rent and tacky compared to the really nice outfit that Emma Marks had on.

Ivy’s makeup wasn’t perfect, her clothes weren’t perfect.

And it was so obvious that Cullen Sharpe demanded perfection in everyone who worked at his company.

Ivy was in the wrong place. She should right now be squirrelled away in some quaint little bookstore in the suburbs, ringing up customers at the register or stocking the shelves. A simple job where she could blend in like she always had, be comfortably in the background, and not have to deal with people like Cullen Sharpe.

“Pull yourself together, Ivy,” she whispered. She took a deep, deep breath.

I’ve never quit anything in my life and I’m not going to start today. I’m not going to let snooty uptight people scare me.

She felt her spine stiffen and her chin rose as she made the decision to stick out the rest of the day at the very least.

I’ll bring him his stupid coffee. How difficult is it to hand someone a cup of coffee anyway?

She had to laugh at how ridiculous she was being. Letting the atmosphere of the place get to her—she didn’t have to drink the Kool-Aid just because everyone else around here had done so.

Leaving the bathroom, she felt lighter somehow. She had a small smile playing on her lips.