Heat Wave Box Set: Volumes I-III Read online

  I smiled and shook my head. “I’m so far from perfection, it’s scary.”

  “Not true.” His hand went around my waist, and immediately, sensations pulsed through me as if I could do it all again, right now. “When I looked through that window today, I thought, there’s a woman who is in complete control of her life but who has been constantly disappointed in love.” He reached up and the feel of his palm on my face made my chest tighten. He seemed to be able to look right through to my soul. “I think you just need a little pointing in the right direction.”

  My face warmed, and I turned away from him. I strolled to his work desk, enjoying the fact that I knew he was watching me. Having his eyes on me was more erotic than anything I’d ever experienced with any man. “I’m afraid you know more about me than I know about you.” I opened the drawing book. “Why take a chance out on the skyscrapers when you have talent like this? Surely, you make money with these amazing drawings.”

  Now it was his turn to take a compliment. I laughed. “While you don’t seem the type of man who would ever blush, it seems that you are also not a fan of flattery.”

  He walked over and fingered his sketchpad. “No, it’s nice to have someone appreciate my artwork. It’s as much a part of me as my arms and legs. I pour myself onto the paper when I draw. I’m just starting to make good money with it now. A few publishers have hired me for illustrations. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. It was just me and my dad and he couldn’t afford me. So the window washing job came up through a friend. It was good money, enough to survive on without having to live on the streets or eat at the mini mart every night. So I took it and kept up with my art in my spare time.”

  I had the urge to touch him. This was a night to do what I wanted without giving any thoughts to consequences. My hand ran down his shoulder to his hand and then I laced my fingers through his. “It must be terrifying up there,” I said.

  He shrugged. “If you think about it too much then you can definitely freak out. I just forget about how far up I am. It’s that whole ‘don’t look down’ thing.” He wrapped his hand around my back and pulled me against him. “Sometimes, you can’t over-think things. Otherwise, shit will get the best of you.”

  “You have a lot of good theories about life.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, being suspended alone on the side of a building gives you a lot of time to reflect.” He kissed me. “Unless you get lucky enough to stop in front of a window where an extremely hot woman gets your attention. Then the whole philosophizing thing goes right out the window.”

  Chapter 6

  The sultry afternoon had morphed into a mild, breezy night. Riding on a motorcycle was far more exhilarating than I’d expected. Or maybe it was just the man I had my arms wrapped around that made it so. But on the fun ride back to my car, I wondered just where this was all going. Beck didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d attach himself to one girl. He was far too much man for that. We hadn’t discussed any current or past relationships, mostly because it would have dimmed the highly charged night of sex we were having. But now that it was over, I’d returned to the mindset that this was just a fling, a really great fling. Tomorrow, I’d return to my suffocating office with nothing much to look forward to and only the memories of this rather strange but fantastic day. It was for the best. In fact, this kind of relationship was the last thing I needed. It would throw off my focus on my career, and, surely, my work would suffer. I couldn’t lose what I’d already built for myself by getting involved with a man like Beck.

  I pressed my face against his back. It was solid under my cheek. And, suddenly, I felt a little heartbroken. It had been such an intense night, and for several fleeting moments, I’d allowed myself to get lost emotionally and physically with my Hollywood Adonis. But it had been a fantasy, and like all good fantasies, they eventually dissolved leaving behind a stark reality.

  We got back to my car. I climbed off the bike and handed him the helmet. Even though it was warm outside, I wrapped my arms around myself as if a chill had swept through me. He stayed on the bike out of convenience and perhaps to let me know this was it. I stepped closer to him. Shit, he was breathtaking. Even at night under parking lights, he made my heart jump ahead like a stone skipping along a smooth lake.

  “Thanks for the extraordinary evening,” I said. He looked slightly disappointed at my polite exit line, but anything more would have seemed awkward. We were two strangers who’d jumped straight into bed together for an unforgettable night of sex. At least it had been unforgettable for me. It might have been completely ordinary for him. He hadn’t said a word, which confirmed my notion that this was it.

  But then he reached up and placed his hand on my face to bring my mouth toward his for a kiss. It was a tender, sweet kiss that I could still feel on my lips after he pulled away. “Will I see you tomorrow night?” he asked.

  It took me a few seconds to absorb the question, the question I hadn’t expected. “Uh, I’m not sure.” I had no idea why I’d answered that way, and I might very well go to my grave not knowing why I was so hesitant, except that my stupid, practical brain always worked that way.

  He nodded and pulled on his helmet. He stayed to see that I got into my car safely and then, with the loud stuttering sound of his bike echoing through the empty lot, he rode off.

  Chapter 7

  Hayley had given me my messages, debriefed me on my day and listed the emails sent by the higher ups, but everything she’d said had just blended into words and phrases that meant nothing to me until she mentioned one more thing on her way out the door.

  “That dreamy window washer is on the next section of windows. I was next door having coffee with Veronica before work. I guess the girls in Bradley’s Marketing Firm will have an extra hot morning.” She walked out.

  I sat at my desk and stared down at my mound of work. Every second from the night before had replayed in my head all night long. I could hardly sleep thinking about it. And Beck’s face when I’d answered him had stuck with me too. He’d seemed genuinely upset. But it was nothing compared to the profound disappointment I’d felt at my own insecurities.

  I got up from my chair. There was no way to see over to the next windows, but when I looked up, I could see the cables and the edge of his platform. There he was, the man who I could still feel touching me with his hands, his mouth, his eyes, those incredible eyes that could coax me to do things I never would have considered before. Long before I was off work, he’d be done with his shift and gone. And I hadn’t given him any encouragement to come back for me.

  “Shit.” I marched out of my office and past Haley’s desk.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “I’ll be right back.” I headed out of the door and into the main hallway. People were still milling about and making their way to their offices. I sidled past the guy with the muffin cart and went through the main door that led to the Bradley Marketing offices. I gathered a long line of confused stares and open mouths as I strode past the maze of cubicles. Their floor was set up like ours with the management offices and boardroom on the window side. Through the mottled glass on the boardroom door, I caught a glimpse of Beck’s platform. I turned the knob and went inside. Everyone looked up from their muffins and coffee. It seemed a morning meeting was just about to begin.

  “Can I help you?” a man in a navy blue suit asked from the head of the table.

  I shook my head but paid him no other attention. My focus was on the man standing outside the building on his narrow platform. Beck was leaned over pouring liquid into his bucket. As he straightened, he saw me and looked surprised. We had an audience behind us, but I didn’t care. He gazed at me with those blue eyes that were already etched into my memory. I lifted a hand and blew him a kiss. He smiled and blew one back. There was a mixture of quiet gasps and soft chuckles behind me. I was definitely giving Bradley Marketing som
ething to talk about at the water cooler. I smiled back at Beck and then turned around.

  “Carry on,” I said, and marched back out of the room.

  Chapter 8

  The end of the work day couldn’t come soon enough. As usual, I was one of the last people to leave the building. They’d managed to get the air conditioning cranking again, and I had to catch up on work from the day before. My hands trembled with anticipation as the elevator took its sweet damn time rumbling down to the ground floor. I glimpsed down at my phone as I stepped out of the elevator. As I looked up, Beck was standing right in front of me.

  He smiled. Before I could take any more steps, he had me in his arms. “Are you always the last damn person to leave this building? I’ve been waiting for an hour.”

  “Sorry, life of an important career woman, you know?”

  He reached up and pulled the pins from my bun. He watched as my hair cascaded down around my shoulders. “Yep. But you’re clocked out for the day. And now you’re on my time, darlin’.” He kissed me.

  Heat wave

  Vol. II

  C.J. Evans

  Chapter 1

  Even stretched out naked on top of my sheets with a fan blowing on me from the window and the ceiling, I still had hardly slept. And the weatherman had assured us that the extreme temperatures would be sticking around for four more days. I had the day off work, but I almost would have preferred to go in. At least the bookstore had air conditioning. The pool in the center of the apartment complex would probably be crowded, but the beach would be worse.

  I got up from the sofa bed and cracked my neck and back. The springs on the thin mattress had been gouging me all night, but I’d been glad to get the bed, crappy as it was, from my mom. And, I was especially glad to be out of Chase’s house and life. My apartment was small, and at the moment as hot as a pizza oven, but at least I didn’t have to tiptoe around worried that I’d set Chase off. I hadn’t just moved out from his house. I’d swept up my stuff and ran . . . and never looked back. Loneliness was far better than constant panic attacks. For the last few months, I’d basically cringed every time the man touched me. He sensed my distaste for being with him, but his ego told him to just ignore it. In fact, he was an expert at ignoring my feelings.

  A convenient four steps took me from my bed to the coffeepot in the kitchen. Small was good. I didn’t need any more than this one room apartment. I was free, and that was all I needed to be happy.

  Music suddenly rumbled from the neighboring apartment. It shook the panda bear magnets loose from my refrigerator door. Thicker walls would have been nice too.

  The new neighbor, or neighbors, had spent all of the day before moving in. The hallway had been a traffic jam of boxes and noisy people. Whoever it was, they’d had an entire slew of friends helping them. By the time I returned from work, most of the stuff was inside, but it had sounded as if they were having a party while unpacking boxes. Mrs. Davidson, from across the way, an elderly woman with two cats and a grandmotherly smile, had looked worried as she told me about the long day of shenanigans while they moved in. I’d heard music and lots of feminine giggling, including some that I was certain had to do with sex, pushing through the thin plaster wall. But the noise of the fans had drowned it out enough that I’d managed to ignore it. I would have expected them to sleep late, but, apparently, whoever my new neighbors were, they were early risers. And they liked music. Loud music.

  The heat was making the garbage can stink. I pulled on some shorts and a tank top. The pungent odor of banana peels and coffee grounds seeped through the trash bag. I tied it shut and walked out to the trash chute. I shoved the bag in quickly, not wanting to get a whiff of the mass of garbage collecting in the bin. As I spun around, I slammed directly into a body, a very hard, muscular body, clad only in men’s briefs, a mosaic of ink and a shockingly appealing smile. My hands were splayed out flat against his pecs, and it took me longer than necessary to remove them. I couldn’t quite explain my hesitation except for that it was a great chest.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. He held up his garbage bag unnecessarily. “I don’t normally sneak up on people with my trash.”

  “And wearing only underwear? You know, tattoos don’t technically count as clothing. Even if they cover a lot of your skin.” I looked pointedly down at his lack of clothing. My face warmed as my attention landed on what appeared to be an extremely large male appendage. He caught where my focus had landed, and his great smile returned. It wasn’t a big, bold, toothy grin, but rather a cocky sort of lip tilt that suited his face perfectly. And it was definitely a handsome face. With pale green eyes. Pale green eyes that made me fidget as he stared at me.

  He tucked his long, dark blond hair behind his ear. He had a small silver plug in each ear. “Actually, I thought I could just dash across the hall with the trash and make it back before running into anyone.”

  “Technically, I ran into you,” I said.

  “Yes, and I’m glad it was you and the not the lady from across the hall. I guess I’ve already made a bad impression with the move in. I promise not to be an annoying neighbor.” He had no qualms about holding a conversation in the rather public hallway in nothing but his underwear. He dropped his trash into the shoot and looked at his palm. “It’s sticky, otherwise, we could shake. I’m Breaker.”

  I raised a brow in confusion. “That’s your name? Breaker? Do you break things?”

  “Nope. My full name is Robert Breaker Harrington the third, but my grandfather goes by Bob and my dad uses Robby, so I decided to stick with the middle name.”

  “Makes sense. I’m Pepper.”

  His mouth curved up, and I wondered if he practiced his smile in the mirror. He’d certainly perfected it. “You questioned the name Breaker, but your name is Pepper?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Just never heard of Breaker.” I looked at him. He was a good head taller than me and a good deal broader. With his muscular build and myriad of tattoos, he bordered on menacing. But there was nothing in his expression or demeanor that made him seem dangerous. A little wild and prone to a sordid lifestyle but not dangerous. “Wait,” I said, with sudden recognition of the name, “are you part of the Harrington family from Breaker Harrington Industries?”

  “Yep. If you look at the family tree everyone has a gold leaf around their name and on the branch below my father’s name is a silhouette of a black sheep.” He pointed to his chest. “That’s where you’ll find my name. It’s been nice meeting you, Pepper.” He took a bold moment to check me out, his gaze lingering quite long on my legs. Then he smiled at me. “Pepper fits you. It’s hot and spicy.”

  “Yes, I’ve certainly never heard that line before. I don’t think my mom understood some of the problems that would come with naming me Pepper. She just thought it was cute.”

  “I haven’t met the woman, but I like her already just for picking out that name for you.” He returned to his door. His pale, slightly disconcerting gaze flicked my way for a second. Then he went inside.

  I returned to my apartment. I weighed the pros and cons of starting up the coffeepot. Hot coffee and the pot brewing sounded unpleasant in my already sweltering studio apartment, but I was groggy from a night of tossing and turning. Which, of course, was also due to the heat. It was a vicious circle. I opted for coffee.

  While it brewed, I picked up my laptop and plunked down on the bed. In a few minutes, it would morph back into my couch, but, for now, the bed seemed more inviting. I scooted back and leaned against the back of the sofa and balanced my computer on my legs. Music thrummed through the walls. It was just loud enough to make my walls vibrate but not clear enough to be enjoyed as actual music. A Breaker Harrington living right next door in what I would consider to be a rather shabby apartment complex. People weren’t dangling wet laundry from the balcony or sharing a community bathroom, but we weren’t exactly enjoying the
lap of luxury here either. His family was one of the richest in the country, and he was hanging out in a pay-by-the-month, utilities-covered apartment complex.

  I did what every good nosy neighbor would do in this situation. I Googled his name. A flurry of news articles came up. The top listing was an eight year old newspaper story. It was titled “Heir to the Breaker Harrington Fortune in Coma”. I clicked on it. Apparently, at the age of eighteen, my new neighbor, who’d been living a rather tumultuous life up to that point, nearly overdosed on drugs. I clicked on other pages. They told about his complete recovery along with his ‘estrangement from the family due to irreconcilable differences’. After a few minutes of perusing the sordid life of Robert Breaker Harrington the third, the term black sheep seemed a bit harsh— for the sheep.

  Chapter 2

  After a long morning in the laundry room, where the moist heat coupled with the pungent smell of fabric softener had given me a headache, I decided to change into my suit and go to the pool. I’d found the perfect periwinkle blue bikini on the half off rack at the store, and I hadn’t had a chance to wear it yet. I slathered on the sun block, threw my long, auburn hair in to a loose pile on top of my head and grabbed my sunglasses, book and water bottle. I was risking this adventure on the hunch that it was too hot for most people to even sit by the pool.

  The apartment complex was big, and I’d only moved in a month ago. I rarely knew or recognized anyone in the pool area. There were two women lounging on one end, and an older man had pulled on his straw hat to sit at the table under the umbrella to do crossword puzzles and sip soda.

  The three lounges running along the east side of the pool, which sat in full sunlight, were empty. Perfect. I walked over and sat down on the middle one and then popped back up. The cushion was too hot. I smoothed out my towel, lifted off my white swimsuit cover up, organized my pool tools, lotion, book and water, and stretched out on the lounge. It was hot. Damn hot. But I would bake for fifteen minutes or so and then the pool water, which was too warm, would feel refreshing.