Reid eyed his friend. “Guys like us?”
Cooper gave him a wry smile. “The bossy type. I know it’s been a while, but I doubt you’ve changed that much since college.”
Reid absentmindedly rubbed the spot on his finger where a ring used to be. No, some things couldn’t be changed, no matter how hard he’d tried. Too bad he hadn’t figured that out before he’d married a woman who thought he was some kind of deviant for wanting to take control in the bedroom.
“I guess you’re right.” However, Cooper’s assessment of Brynn confused him. Back when he’d known her, she’d been exactly the kind of girl for his flavor of kink.
Coop pointed his bottle at him. “Well, I don’t know what’s between you two, but I suggest you clear out that old stuff quick. The last thing we need at the crisis center is drama between the employees. Believe me, our clients provide enough of that.”
Reid gave a curt nod. “I’ll take care of it.”
Now he just had to figure out how. This was supposed to be his fresh start, both from his failed marriage and from the stress of working in his family’s high-profile practice. Tiptoeing around Brynn and being on edge at work were not part of the agenda. He’d done enough eggshell walking over the past few years to last him a lifetime. That stopped now.
The way he saw it, she’d ripped his heart out ten years ago and then he’d let her down during her mother’s trial—they should be even. So whether she liked it or not, the two of them were going to dump their ugly history on the table and deal with it.
Based on previous experience, that kind of discussion would either end up in a screaming fight or a screaming fuck. Regardless, he wasn’t waiting until Monday to have it with her. To hell with her date—and her vibrator. There would only be one guy driving Ms. LeBreck home tonight.
TWO
ten years earlier
Brynn fought the urge to roll her eyes as the other girls in the campaign office fawned over the senator-to-be’s nephew. Reid had only been in the building for ten minutes and already her fellow coeds had provided him with cupfuls of coffee and an eyeful of cleavage. Not that Reid looked like he minded. He leaned back in his desk chair and graced the two women with his sly smile, holding court.
Brynn shook her head. Must be nice to have things handed to you without having to work for it. College paid for, a cushy summer job, and designer jeans that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe—all because you were lucky enough to win the family lottery.
She dropped her gaze back to the pink notepad in front of her and scribbled down the message from the phone call she’d taken a few minutes earlier. She tore off the sheet and put it on the growing stack of “while you were out” notes for Davis Ackerman, the campaign manager. Her neck ached from cradling the phone to her ear all morning, but she wasn’t going to complain. This new receptionist gig sure beat running the register at the Chicken Fried Chick down the street. She’d take sore muscles over hair that smelled like fryer grease any day.
The sound of a throat clearing made her raise her head. Reid propped his hip on the edge of her desk and peered down at her, his dark blue eyes analyzing her. “Brynn, right?”
She sat straighter in her chair in an attempt to look more professional. “Yes, sir. Brynn LeBreck.”
His mouth curled at the corner. “I’m hardly old enough to drink. I don’t think you need to call me sir, although it sounds kind of good coming from you. You have a nice voice.”
She groaned inwardly. All these girls tripping over themselves and he was going to turn that southern charm on her? Super. Not that he wasn’t nice to look at, but she didn’t have time for guys right now, especially ones who were related to the man who signed her much-needed paycheck. She forced a polite smile. “Guess that’s why they hired me to answer phones.”
He shook his head. “No, my uncle said he offered you the job because you were giving an unruly customer the what-for when he went in to get lunch one day. Figured you’d be able to handle all the craziness around here just fine.”
She smirked at the memory. The redneck had quickly regretted ogling her and asking if there was an up-charge for large breasts. “Yeah, not my proudest moment, but that customer deserved it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Uncle Patrick said you insulted the dude’s manhood… and his mother.”
She threw up her hands. “Well, the guy was being a dick. What else was I supposed to do?”
He pressed his lips together as if holding back a laugh.
She cringed. “Sorry. Sometimes my mouth opens before my brain gets involved.”
He chuckled, the deep sound so genuine the tension in her shoulders relaxed. “Don’t censor yourself on account of me. I didn’t hire you. I can’t fire you. So no filter necessary. Talk dirty to me anytime you want.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “If that’s your pick-up line, I’d work on it.”
He frowned, his brows furrowing. “No good?”
She sat her chin on her hand and shook her head.
“Really? Huh.” He looked over his shoulder. “I’d bet Molly or Krista over there would eat that shit up.”
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sure you could recite the Pledge of Allegiance and the sorority twins would turn cartwheels.”