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Blaze would never understand.
Three months ago, an email from an unknown account hit his inbox. He almost sent it right into the trash bin, but something made him stop. Click. Read. And that had been the beginning of something that had gone from curious questioning to light flirting to downright filthy in a matter of weeks. He assumed from some of the things she wrote that the mystery admirer worked at White and had probably seen him in the Miami office when he’d come into town during those first few months of partnering with Sylvester’s company. She’d seen him, fallen for him, and then wrote that first email. And it wasn’t just the emails. It was the gifts that came to his office and house. Little things that reminded him of his email conversations with her.
SWAN. She Without a Name.
Boxes of homemade cookies. Cases of his favorite beers. Tickets to Miami Heat games. Books and movies they’d chatted about. Whoever Swan was, she was generous, thoughtful, and damn frustrating. No matter what he promised or how hard he begged, she wouldn’t reveal a single detail about herself. And it was driving him fucking crazy!
On paper, she was everything he’d ever wanted: intelligent, witty, funny, flirty, kind, thoughtful, and fucking arousing. But a relationship built on paper was doomed to collapse. For the last month, he’d been pleading with her to meet him in person, to at least send him a picture so he could see her. But she always turned him down, telling him that she wasn’t ready for him to see her.
And he’d always wondered why. To him, it didn’t matter what she looked like—he’d been into her since that first email, when she admitted that she could see something in him that called to her…because she was the same. Deep down, she was as haunted by old pain as he was. She was his other half. He just had to prove it to her.
“The bachelor life is getting old, man. I’m ready to find my own personal Anna and settle down. I want the house, the white picket fence, the four kids and two dogs. I want it all.” And he wanted it with Swan.
Blaze reached across the table and slapped AJ on the shoulder. “You’ll get that, man. You deserve it, too, especially after all that shit with your dad.”
Blaze, as AJ’s best friend, was one of the few who knew the truth about Alejandro Mendez and who he was before he and Sally cut themselves off from their father. Blaze knew about the years of abuse before AJ finally broke away, escaping Savannah to start a new life in Miami. That had been a little over ten years ago. He’d met Blaze while Blaze had been in town doing some shit for the Navy, and they’d hit it off. Once Blaze discharged from the Navy, AJ hooked him up with a job at the construction company where he’d been working since he was eightteen. After a few months, AJ and Blaze decided to move to Blaze’s hometown, Jackson Key, and start their own business. The rest was history.
“You guys order food yet?” Sly asked, appearing beside their table, before sliding into the seat across from AJ. He smirked at AJ, knowing full well AJ still felt a little uneasy about the man who was fucking his sister.
The asshole.
“Nah, man. Just drinks. We were shootin’ the shit until your ass got here,” Blaze answered, raising his hand to flag down the waitress. Apparently, their old waitress clocked out because the new one was….
She appeared in a flash, her bright smile laser focused on him, her interest obvious. Her long blonde hair, big tits, and glittering blue eyes could catch any man’s attention. Before Swan, she would have caught his attention. She leaned over AJ, her tits practically spilling from a shirt that could use a few more buttons.
“What can I get you handsome gentlemen?” she purred, sliding a hand over AJ’s bicep uninvited. He leaned away. The woman pouted but turned her focus to Sly and Blaze, undeterred. She wanted whichever man gave her the time of day. Ugh.
Blaze coughed, attempting to hide a laugh. “We’ll have the eighty hot wings platter with extra ranch dip, the mega nachos with extra guac, and two more pitchers of beer.”
Sly kept his focus on the table rather than lift his gaze and give the woman an in. Good. The man was fucking AJ’s sister, he’d better keep his eyes to himself.
The waitress, who’s nametag—conveniently placed beside the gaping opening in her uniform—read Sandi, gripped AJ’s shoulder, rasped that she’d be right back with their drinks in his ear, and then sashayed away, her hips swinging.
Blaze couldn’t hold his laughter any longer, barking a guffaw as soon as the woman was out of sight.
“Holy shit, AJ! That woman was about ready to climb into your lap and suck your dick.”
AJ rolled his eyes and groaned. “I didn’t ask for that.” Not that he ever did. Blessed with good looks, a built body he earned from working hard, and an easy smile, most women just fell into his lap—sometimes literally. At first, it had been fun as hell, getting ass whenever he wanted it without the work most men had to put in. He reveled in it. Once his mom died, however, the fun leached from that lifestyle. Yeah, he still got ass whenever he wanted it, but he fucked with moderation. In his twenty-nine years, he’d never had an actual relationship with a woman, just empty sexual encounters that satiated his need for sex, but left him feeling cold.
Now, he was over meaningless sex. He wanted that relationship, that intimacy, that closeness with one person who filled his heart and soul with contentment.
Swan.
Fuck. He really needed to focus on something else, otherwise Blaze would figure it out and climb up his ass about it.
Sly laid his phone on the table and smirked at AJ. “Your sister, Anna, and Maeve are hitting Velvet Saturday night.”
Velvet was the new nightclub in Tampa that his sister had been harping on about for weeks. Apparently, she’d finally worn Sly down enough to get him to let her go. Not that his sister ever required permission to do whatever the fuck she wanted, but she loved her boyfriend enough to give him the illusion of being in charge.
Blaze grumbled. “Guess I am, too.”
AJ grinned, picturing a grumpy as hell Blaze tossing metrosexual males off the dance floor. His smile slipped when the image in his head switched from a bitching Anna to a cowering Maeve.
Maeve Thomas, in a dance club, actually dancing and not hiding in the corner? Nah, that wouldn’t happen. That woman spent more time hiding in plain sight than any woman he’d ever met. He knew she thought no one noticed her unless they wanted something from her, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. He noticed her…he just didn’t think she’d appreciate why.
Maeve was a mouse. Dressed in shades of brown a gray, speaking in a soft, unobtrusive voice, sort of scurrying out of the way whenever AJ entered the office. He couldn’t understand what it was about him that made her so anxious. And that “not knowing” made her all the more intriguing—which he would never admit to anyone.
The Harris Construction LLC office manager was a curious creature, and it annoyed him that he was curious in the first place. She was an employee, one of his sister’s friends, and generally a beige personality. So why was the thought of her in the club bothering him?
“Guess we’re all going to Velvet on Saturday night,” AJ interjected, making Blaze’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
AJ grabbed his cell to check for a new email, willfully ignoring the knowing smile on his friend’s face.
