Page 9 of Beast Brothers 2

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“They blocked the door over you not having time for breakfast?” she presses.

I sigh. “They wanted my number. I didn’t want to give it to them.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “Nothing like that.”

“But you don’t want to see them again, after an amazing night,” Tara says.

“Look,” I say. “Not every set of twins—”

“They’re twins?” Tara gasps, and Megan’s gaze sharpens. I guess I forgot to mention that little detail.

“Yes. But they’re not like your Beasts, Megan. I was looking for fun, not forever.”

“Same thing I was looking for,” she reminds me. “Asshole ex recovery therapy, nothing more.”

“Yeah, but then they got all bossy.”

Megan gives me a look, and I wave a hand. “I know, I know.” Her men are nothing if not bossy. “Alpha males and all that. But, Megs, these guys are not your guys. They’re just not.”

“Let’s see. Extraordinary physiques, check; extraordinary sex, check; alpha dominance, check. Exactly how are they different?” she says.

“You’re not helping. You’re supposed to be supporting me in my choices.”

“I do support you. I’m just wondering exactly why you don’t want to see them again.”

“Maybe it’s not them,” I admit after a moment’s reflection. “Maybe it’s me.”

“What do you mean?” Tara says.

“I’m not Megan. I mean, yeah, hunky twins for the win when it comes to mind-blowing sex, but outside the bedroom, can either of you really imagine one man giving me orders, let alone two?”

“No,” they both say simultaneously.

“Exactly. So it just wouldn’t work. And I knew that, which is why I tried to leave without making any promises or giving them my number. But they didn’t want to hear it.”

“Did you actually say it for them to hear?” Tara wants to know.

“When they made an issue of my leaving, yes. I told them I didn’t want to see them again.”

Megan takes a sip of her water. “And they accepted that?”

“They let me go when I made it very clear I would not be staying. But they weren’t happy about it.”

There’s a long silence. “Well, I guess that’s the end of that,” Tara says at last.

“Yeah.” And even after all this discussion, the pain I feel when I say it takes me by surprise.

15

You Don’t Go Anywhere

Zoe

Back at the store, I’m still busy as ever, but there’s a cloud hanging over me that I can’t seem to shake. I try to distract myself by thinking about after-work options: hit a club for a cold drink and a hot man? Call on my friends again for margaritas or martinis? Stay in with a hot bath, a book and a glass of wine?

None of the options feels quite right, and my indecision only adds to my discontent.

When the last customer has left and the boutique is closed, I still haven’t decided how I’m going to spend my night. I’m heading toward the back office when someone knocks sharply on the shop’s front door. I consider ignoring it — the closed sign is on display and store hours are posted near the door — but something about the sound of the knock makes me stop. Then the summons is repeated, loud and urgent, and I can tell it’s not a persistent shopper.

Imagine my surprise, my excitement, my irritation — all of these fight for dominance and irritation wins — when I find Alex and Lucas Wolf at the boutique’s front door.

For a moment, I wonder how they found me, but then I remember that I told them where I worked. Also — duh, Zoe — they do investigations and they inspected my driver’s license last night. They probably know my entire work and education history, and the last thing I ordered online.

But they do not have the right to stalk me. I jam my key into the lock and open the door, wishing it opened outward so I could knock one of them over, as if I could move one of their big, solid bodies.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” I snap. Angry as I am, I’m also mindful that I’m still at work, and there’s a security camera recording my actions. I’m grateful for the protection of the camera, but it’s also keeping me from letting the expletives fly.

Damn, they look good. Lucas exudes cool confidence in khakis and a crisp, white shirt, and Alex is rocking well-worn jeans that cling to his thighs just right. Why do these jerks have to be so yummy?

Before they have a chance to get a word in, I continue. “I think I made myself clear this morning. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

“We’re here to escort yo

u home, Zoe,” Alex says.

“What the hell?” I suddenly remember that the security camera doesn’t record sound, so I’m free to express myself, as long as I don’t actually punch these guys. “We had one night together. You don’t own me, you don’t control me, and I sure as hell am not letting you come to my home. In fact, if you—”

Lucas cuts me off. I could swear that Alex is holding back a smirk, but his brother is deadly serious. “Zoe. We’re here on business.”

“What are you talking about?” My scowl is equal parts bafflement and irritation. “I didn’t hire you.”

“No. Your father did.”

As I stare at him in stunned silence, he pushes the door open further. “Zoe,” he says gently. “Let us in.”

I step back, too shocked to do anything else, and they quickly come in and close the door. While Lucas locks it, Alex escorts me toward the employees-only section in the rear of the building. His hand is barely touching the small of my back, but I feel it like a brand.

“What’s going on?” I say as Lucas joins us. “Why would my father hire you, and what does it have to do with me?”

Alex no longer seems amused. He’s in work mode, his eyes sharp, scanning every inch of my workplace. “Let’s talk when we get you home.”

We go out the back entrance, and Lucas, who still has my keys, again deals with locking up. Alex doesn’t let me cross the parking lot; he keeps me there, shielded between him and his brother, until the door is secure.

I’m starting to get freaked out. Our encounter at the MMA match was annoying, but in retrospect seems almost lighthearted. I haven’t really seen the brothers in pure work mode until now, and it’s both impressive and unnerving.

When Lucas is done with the door, he heads toward my car, while Alex shepherds me to a black SUV that’s just a few feet away. They’ve thought of every contingency, it seems. “Do you have sunglasses?” Alex asks.


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