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She shook her head as she realized the irony of her remark. Gorgeous, sexy—albeit grumpy—Cole Sommers had been a part of her dreams and fantasies for more years than she cared to recall. She’d met him for the first time when she was sixteen and her father had brought him home for dinner one night after his dad, John Sommers, had been killed. She could still distinctly remember the butterflies that hatched in her stomach whenever he glanced at her with those dark, velvet-blue eyes of his, the way her entire body tingled whenever he was near, and how her heart skipped a beat when he talked to her in that deep, smooth voice of his.
Twelve years later and he still had that same sensual effect on her. And she was still smitten, still dreaming, still fantasizing of him—and he was oblivious to her, other than her position as his faithful, efficient secretary.
Not only did she want Cole to notice her as a woman, but she’d spent the past two years at the firm trying to prove her capabilities in the PI business beyond her secretarial duties. She’d been intrigued by the various cases from her very first day on the job and enjoyed helping Cole, Noah, and Joelle research cases—doing background checks, and learning the ins and outs of the business. Now, she was ready to take that next step, and ready to show Cole that she could handle more than front-end paperwork.
Noah entered the reception area from Cole’s office, and Melodie sat up straighter in her chair, shoved her personal secrets away for the time being and focused on the pulled up the payables on her computer that she needed to process.
“Hey, sweet stuff,” he said, calling her by the flirtatious nickname he’d christened her with the first week she’d come to work for the firm. “I’ll be out tomorrow for most of the day working on a case, so if you need me for anything important, just hit me up on my cell.”
She smiled, having always genuinely liked Noah. He was one of those men who had charisma aplenty and liked all women. He was, undoubtedly, a “chick magnet” as his sister was fond of saying, though Melodie had never thought of him as anything more than a friend and surrogate brother. “Will do.”
He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s almost five thirty. Why don’t you take off early?” he teased, knowing full well she usually didn’t leave the office until after six most nights. “You deserve the break.”
Take off early and do what, she wondered. Her nights were so routine and boring it was pathetic—pick up fast food on the way home, eat it while watching TV, take a shower, slip into comfy pj’s, check in with her dad, then read a book until she fell asleep. Occasionally, on the weekend, she’d go out to dinner and a movie with a friend, nothing overly exciting or wild. Then again, having been raised by a police sergeant, she’d never strayed from what was expected of her—discreet, proper behavior, in public and in private.
“Even Joelle enjoys the benefits of leaving on time,” he said, gesturing to the office with its lights out for the evening.
“Joelle has a handsome husband to go home to,” she countered.
Noah feigned a shocked look. “You mean to tell me that you don’t have some hot guy waiting for you to get home at night so he can ravish you?”
Didn’t she wish. She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. “Hardly, and you’re a big tease.”
“Well, here’s a little tip for you.” He leaned close, as if sharing a well-kept secret, and gave the end of her braid a mischievous tug. “You’re not going to find Mr. Right spending all your time here.”
Melodie blinked, unsure whether to take his remark as a subtle warning about his brother, a little friendly advice, or if he was just humoring her with his usual fun-loving nature.
He strolled toward the front door. “No matter how you spend the evening, have a good one, sweet stuff.” With a playful wink over his broad shoulder, he was gone.
Sweet. The word grated on her sensible nerves, and her lips pursed as if she’d just swallowed something sour. She was tired of being thought of as sweet. Sure, being polite and courteous had its time and place, but she was beginning to realize that being amiable had gotten her absolutely nowhere with men. She’d always been prudent and modest, and as a result her life was boring, tedious, and so very predictable.
She was tired of being good, of always doing the right thing and making level-headed choices. She had nothing substantial to show for her exemplary behavior and discerning ways—no social life other than a few close friends, no steady dates and certainly no sex life, either. At twenty-eight, she definitely wasn’t having fun. She was turning into an old maid while wishing she had the nerve to be worldly and wise when it came to men and relationships.
Bracing her elbows on her desk, she propped her chin in her palm and allowed a smile to curl the corners of her mouth as she imagined how much fun being bad would be for a change. To break out of the monotonous pattern her life had become. To assert herself and go for what she wanted. No holds barred.
What she wanted was Cole Sommers and the chance to show him how much she’d learned about the business over the years, and the perfect opportunity had presented itself in the form of him needing a woman. She might not be sexy or a stunning b
eauty, but she was intelligent and knew the investigative business better than most. Certainly being familiar with the Russell case had to account for a few extra points in her favor, as well.
Excitement and anticipation rolled through Melodie as a plan formed in her mind, and when Cole entered the reception area a few moments later, she was mentally prepared to fight for this case—and her man.
“Here’s the new file on the Russell case.” Stopping in front of her desk, he set the folder in an empty wire basket, his demeanor strictly business. “Once you have the initial report and client contract typed up and into the computer, I’d like the file back. This evening, if possible. I have a few things I need to follow up on early tomorrow morning.”
“Consider it done.” Another late night at the office—by her own choice, she knew. It was a precedent she’d set of her own accord, so she couldn’t blame Cole for assuming what had become routine on her part. She loved her job, but there was no denying she craved more excitement and adventure than typing up a report could provide.
He turned back around to leave, and she abruptly stood up before she lost the nerve to address him. “Cole?” His name escaped her on a breathless note.
Slowly, he faced her again, regarding her with a casual kind of directness she’d grown used to. Yet there was something in the depth of his blue eyes that made her heartbeat quicken in her chest and her knees feel weak.
“Yes?” he asked, his curt tone dissolving whatever awareness and warmth she’d seen in his expression a moment ago.
She’d never felt intimidated by Cole’s size, but his presence in front of her suddenly seemed very overwhelming. He was a tall, powerfully built man and possessed a potent combination of virile strength, rugged allure and understated confidence. Lean and muscular, he was all male—from his thick, tousled sable hair, to the knit shirt that molded to his broad chest, and fitted khaki trousers that defined his hard thighs and long, sturdy legs. Definitely a candidate for the strong, gorgeous, silent type, and he attracted her like no other.
Anxiety knotted in her belly and her throat closed up tight. She swallowed hard, reminding herself that nothing risked equaled nothing gained—words she planned to embrace from this moment on if she didn’t want to live the rest of her life like a nun. “I heard you and Noah talking about the Russell case and your comment about needing a woman to accompany you to Thornton’s charity auction.”
He blinked, his features taking on a curious edge tinged with a bit of caution. “Do you know someone in the business who could help me out?”
“Well, sort of.” Her fingers twisted together at her waist, a nervous habit she’d developed as a young girl, and she consciously pried her hands apart and set them at her sides. “I do have a solution to your problem.”
