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Page 2


  Someone—a man—chuckled. A second later he said, "You're right about that, darlin'."

  Instantly, my spine straightened, and my eyes popped open.

  I know that voice.

  My head turned on a swivel so quick it was almost comical. When my blue eyes crashed into the same pair of rich, chocolate brown ones that I saw every night in my dreams, all the air left my body in one quick swoosh.

  My first thought? I've never seen eyes that beautiful as his.

  Sinking my teeth into my dry lower lip, I pulled my gaze from his eyes before raking it across his face, down his throat and over his shoulders and chest. He was sitting down, elbows resting on the chair's armrests. He looked different yet the same as he did in the early morning hours of the diner. He was always gorgeous, but there was something about his appearance at that moment that made my body hum. Sporting inky black hair, high cheekbones, and full lips, his shoulders were wide, his chest broad. He wore a black, V—neck t—shirt that was stretched tight across his chest, showing off defined pecs that I instantly wanted to sink my nails into. A small scar marred his right cheekbone, and his nose was slightly crooked, probably from being broken in the past, but it only added to the rough, masculine beauty that he portrayed.

  Good grief, he's gorgeous.

  My skin heated and a foreign weight began to build in my lower belly as I continued to gawk at him. I don't know what it was about him—I mean, and I'd seen attractive men before—but this guy was on a whole different level. As ridiculous as it sounds, at that moment he could've told me to drop to my knees in front of him, and I probably would have done it. Me, a woman who'd never done anything more than kissed, would've been willing to do whatever he asked. That's the kind of pull he exuded.

  Or that's how obsessed I've become.

  His stare bore into me, and I fidgeted on the spot. Clenching my thighs together, I wrapped my arms around my mid—section. "How can I help you, darlin'?"

  I almost melted at the familiar term of endearment. It was stupid because I'm sure he called other women the same thing, but it still made my heart skip a beat.

  "I… I, uh… I—I'm," I stuttered as I continued to stare at him. "I'm sorry." My voice was high—pitched and laced with embarrassment. Holding the newspaper up in the air, I forced a shaky smile. "I'm here about the j—job."

  For goodness sakes, Ava! I chastised myself. Get a grip already!

  Taking a deep breath, I forced a shaky smile. "My name is Ava, but you already know that." Could I sound any stupider? "I'm here to apply for the receptionist position," I repeated.

  The man leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together behind his head. The move made his biceps contract; I almost began drooling.

  Chewing on a toothpick that was wedged between his straight, perfectly white teeth, he swept his eyes over my body, starting at the top of my head and ending at the tips of my toes. Once again, I squirmed. A one—sided smile spread across his face as his gaze crashed back into mine. Dropping his hands, he leaned forward and placed his forearms on top of the large desk. Pointing towards a plastic, grey chair across from him, he said, "Have a seat."

  Again with the darlin'.

  With a quick nod, I sat down and crossed my legs, causing my dress to inch up, baring more of my thighs. The stupid thing was a size too small and a couple of inches too short, but I had no other choice but to wear it. The only other clothes I owned were cut off shorts and tank tops. I hadn't wanted to show up looking like Daisy Duke, so I'd avoided those.

  His scorching gaze dropped to my bare legs. His tongue peeked out of his mouth before sliding across his bottom lip in a sensual move that made my lungs freeze. Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I averted my eyes and stared at the half—filled coffee mug sitting on his desk. The sight of it made me smile.

  Black. No cream. No sugar.

  After a few moments, he inhaled harshly, and asked, "Do you have a resume, darlin'?" He sounded agitated; his tone put me on edge. He'd never sounded like that with me before.

  Nodding quickly, I reached into the oversized purse I'd bought at the local thrift store for three dollars and pulled out the freshly printed sheet of paper. Handing it over to him, I sucked in a lungful of oxygen before saying, "I don't have much experience, but I'm a fast learner." Tapping my foot up and down on the floor nervously, I continued, "And I'm a hard worker. I can work whatever hours you need. I don't mind staying late or working weekends."

  His brows furrowed as he read over my minimal work experience. "You've never worked as a receptionist or administrative assistant before?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  The only job I'd ever had was working serving tables at the diner.

  "Are you comfortable working on a construction site? You'd be in the office all day, but men come and go all the time."

  Again, I nodded. "Yes. I don't mind that at all."

  It was a lie. A big lie. After growing up the way I did, with men continually coming and going, the last thing I wanted to do was experience more of that.

  This is different, I told myself. Completely. Different!

  Dropping my resume to the desk, the man clenched his jaw. He suddenly seemed unnerved and more agitated than before. I didn't understand what was going on, but I knew it wasn't good for me.

  Did I do or say something to upset him?

  "We're a busy company. We need—"

  "I can do it," I replied quickly, cutting him off mid—sentence. I knew he was about to turn me away due to my lack of experience, but I needed to plead my case first. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I was desperate. "I know I don't have much experience. Well"—I laughed nervously—"other than waiting tables, but I can do whatever you need. I'm not saying I won't mess up sometimes because I will, but I have drive and motivation. I can do this." Momentarily pausing, I blew out a breath. "If you'll just give me a chance."

  Tilting his head to the side, the man leaned back in his chair. He opened his mouth to say something else but snapped it shut when the door behind me flew open, and someone else stepped inside the trailer.

  "It's hotter than fuck out there!" A deep voice barked. Needing to see who had just come in, I looked over my shoulder. "Swear to God, I don't—" The new guy's words were momentarily cut off when my gaze locked with his. He looked stunned to see me. He recovered quickly though, and an easy smile spread across his face.

  A face that looked familiar.

  I was never the smartest kid in school, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that the new guy was related to the man sitting behind the desk. Though the color of their hair was different—one black, one blond—their faces were nearly identical.

  "Hey there, princess," the new guy said, his gaze never leaving mine.

  "Hi," I replied softly, smiling at him.

  His smile grew as he lifted his hand and rubbed his palm across the left side of his chest. "Don't see a face as pretty as yours around here much."

  The man sitting behind the desk growled. "Put a lid on it, Jason," he snapped in an angry tone. "She's here for the receptionist position." Rocking back on his booted heels, the man—Jason—crossed his muscular arms over his barrel—sized chest. "Yeah?" His gaze dipped to my legs where they lingered for a moment before moving to my chest. He didn't even try to hide his ogling. My skin heated all over again, and the weight in my belly expanded. I shifted in the seat and the new guy Jason, noticed; he inhaled harshly. "Did you hire her yet? Because if not, I'm about too."

  My brows rose. "You can hire me?" Why I asked such a stupid question, I don't know.

  Still smiling from ear to ear, he closed the space between us. Extending his arm, he took my hand in his. A shiver raced down my spine at the small contact. His palm was warm and calloused. He was rough where I was soft. I secretly wondered how it would feel to have his calloused hands touch other parts of my body.

  Other, forbidden parts, where no man had touched me before.

  "Name is Jaso
n Stone, beautiful. Along with my two knucklehead brothers," he nodded toward the man behind the desk, "one of which you've already met, I own this company." With his hand still holding mine, he stared down at me with sparkling brown eyes identical to his brother's. "So yeah, I guess you could say I've got the power to hire anyone I see fit."

  Remaining silent, I nodded my head slowly and sunk my teeth into my lower lip.

  Jason groaned—no, I'm not joking—at the action.

  Dropping my hand, he moved around the desk to stand beside the man from before—the one who'd I'd been obsessing after for weeks. "Do you have her paperwork ready yet?" The way he talked, it seemed like I already had the job. I didn't. "Or do you need me to get it?"

  The man—whose name I still didn't know—clenched his jaw. Again. "She doesn't have any experience." My heart sunk. "I don't know if it's a good idea—"

  "The hell it isn't!" Jason shouted in an exasperated tone. "She's perfect." Leaning down, he brought his hard face closer to his brothers. "She's the one, Devon." His right eye twitched. "Trust me."

  Devon… I finally knew his name. It fit him perfectly.

  "She has no experience," Devon ground out through gritted teeth. "Trust. Me."

  "She can learn," Jason bit back before turning to face me. "Right, princess?"

  I nodded enthusiastically. "Right."

  Devon turned his head. His scorching hot gaze once again found mine. "It'll cause trouble."

  I have no idea what he means by that.

  Despite his hesitation in hiring me, his eyes still traveled all over my body for the second time. He looked like he was seconds away from reaching over the desk and grabbing me.

  The idea ignited a fire deep inside of me.

  Wanting to please him, I leaned forward in my seat and ran my fingertips over the tops of my knees before traveling halfway up my thighs. His gaze followed the small movements; his jaw clenched.

  What the heck am I doing?

  With that thought, I instantly dropped my hands before placing them on my lap.

  Jason squared his shoulders; a look of anger crossed his face. "I'll deal with whatever trouble it causes."

  I had no idea what was going on, but I had a feeling there was some underlying meaning to their conversation I didn't understand. My skin bristled at the thought. I'd spent my entire life being talked about. I refused to allow it to continue.

  Time to grow a backbone, Ava, the voice in my head demanded.

  "Excuse me," I said, in a harder tone than I'd ever used. Admittedly, it wasn't a very hard tone at all, but for me—and as soft—spoken as I normally was—it was plenty hard. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I don't like being talked about as if I'm not in the room. If either of you has a question for me, I'd be more than glad to answer it. However, I'm politely asking you to please put an end to whatever pissing contest you two have going on until I leave the building." I forced a smile and squared my shoulders.

  Thatta girl, Ava!

  "Now, is there anything you'd like to know?" I asked, bouncing my eyes between the two brothers. "Or am I wasting my time by being here? Because if so, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know. That way I can be on my way."

  Devon's jaw ticked, and Jason snorted. He pointed at me. "See, Devon, she'll fit right in." He winked in my direction. "I think we should keep her."

  Devon's hard gaze swung to mine. "Why do you want this job so bad?"

  It was a fair question, but his sharp tone nipped at my nerves. My eyes narrowed in response. He'd always been sweet to me. Now? Not so much. Already knowing I wouldn't get the job—that much was clear by his harsh and agitated tone—I picked up my purse and prepared to leave. Standing from the chair, I looked from one brother to the next. "Because I like having a roof over my head and food in my stomach." I took a step back toward the door. "Both of which I probably won't have for much longer." Unable to look at either of them for another second, I once again averted my gaze. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I sincerely hope you find the right person for the position."

  Without saying another word, I turned on my heel and walked out the door. Biting my lower lip, I kept my gaze fixed on the ground beneath my feet as I hoofed it across the parking lot. I was determined not to let the tears that were clouding my vision fall.

  I'm so damn sick of crying.

  My thoughts were so focused on getting as far away as I could that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Suddenly, out of nowhere, my front collided with something hard and warm. It felt like I'd walked straight into a brick wall, but you know, except a tad softer and covered in cotton. Knocked off balance, I fell backward. I clenched my eyes shut and braced for impact.

  The impact never came.

  Two strong arms circled my waist, halting my fall. "Careful, baby," a deep baritone whispered next to my ear. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

  I sucked in a breath and looked up at the man who'd kept me from falling. He had familiar chocolate brown eyes and tan skin. He was tall, muscular, and shared the same devastatingly handsome facial features as the men inside the office. The only difference between him, Devon and Jason was that he had brown hair instead of black or blond.

  He must be the third Stone brother.

  I forcefully pulled myself from his hold and took a step back.

  "Excuse me." To my dismay, my voice wobbled, and the first tear slipped free before cascading down my cheek. I turned to the side and took another step. I needed to get away, needed to run.

  "Wait." The man reached for me again, but I quickly moved out of his reach. "Don't leave yet. Not until you tell me why you're crying."

  I felt my chin wobble at his words. I know it sounds crazy, but at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms and cry. Out of the three men I'd met in the last ten minutes, there was something about him that made me think he was the kindest and probably the most understanding of the brothers. I don't know why I thought that, but I did.

  Shaking my head, I took another step back. The man looked torn about whether to come after me or let me go. "I'm fine. I just need to go." I hooked my thumb over my shoulder and pointed to nothing in particular.

  Move, Ava, before he chases you.

  Without wasting another second, I turned to the right and ran towards the sidewalk.

  Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I blew out a breath. Something deep inside of me ached as I moved away from the sand—colored work trailer and headed back toward the motel where I stayed.

  Call me crazy, but it felt like I was leaving something behind.

  Something that was supposed to be mine.

  Two minutes later, the cheap roadside motel where I lived came into view. With every step I took, the lump in my throat grew. It felt like my chest was being ripped open. I didn't understand why I was so upset. I mean, it was just a job. I could—hopefully—find another one.

  Pull yourself together.

  Reaching the door to my room, I slipped my plastic key card into the door and waited for the light to switch from red to green. When it did, I pushed the door open and stumbled inside. Crossing the small space, I dropped my purse to the floor and belly flopped onto the bed.

  Unable to hold myself together any longer, I buried my face in a flat, stale smelling pillow and let the tears flow.

  Chapter Three

  Eric

  I stood rooted to the spot as I watched the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen run away from me. The voice in my head screamed at me to chase after her, but I knew I couldn't do that. If I did, I'd just scare her, and that's the last thing I wanted.

  I'll find her later. Give her a chance to calm down.

  Reluctantly pulling my gaze from her back, I turned on my heel and headed for the office. I didn't know what'd happened inside, but obviously something had. If one of my idiot brothers had been the one to make her upset, I'd strangle them.

  When I was fifteen steps away from the door the sound of rai
sed voices—both of which belonged to my brother's—reached my ears.

  "Fucking great," I whispered to myself. "Sounds like they're about to kill each other."

  Picking up my pace, I burst through the door at a full run. "What the hell is going on?" I shouted at my two older brothers, Devon and Jason as I came to a skidding stop in front of Devon's desk. Standing toe—to—toe they looked like they were seconds away from ripping each other throats out.

  Jason jabbed a pointed finger into Devon's chest. Devon's fist clenched in response. "This piece of shit," Jason barked, in a venomous tone. "Just ran her off."

  Her.

  Such a simple word; such a powerful meaning.

  I opened my mouth to ask exactly what he meant by putting so much emphasis on the word her but was cut off before I got more than two words in. "You mean—"

  "Yes!" Jason yelled, his eyes never leaving Devon's. "Yes, I mean her, the woman who was meant to be ours. His gaze snapped to meet mine. "You saw her"—it was a statement, not a question—"if you can stand there and tell me you didn't feel it too when you first looked at her then you're a damn lie."

  I rubbed my palm across my chest thinking back to my brief encounter with the woman—whose name I didn't know—in the parking lot. I thought back to the way my heart pounded against my ribs when I first laid eyes on her. I thought about the way she felt in my arms. I thought about the way her sweet scent calmed the beast that raged inside of me at the sight of her tear—filled eyes.

  Yeah, whoever the woman was, she was definitely her.

  Her, being the woman that my brothers and I had been waiting our entire lives to find. The woman we'd love, marry, and share. Just like our fathers and grandfathers had loved, married, and shared my mother and grandmother.

  I fisted and unclenched my hands repeatedly. My entire body was strung taut as a wire. "What's her name?" I wanted—needed—to know.

  "Ava," Devon replied, speaking for the first time since I'd walked in the door. "Ava Jackson." Giving Jason one last lethal look, he sat down in his chair behind his desk. "She moved here from Dallas about six months ago." He handed me a sheet of paper. "Here's her resume."