All That I Am (Men of Monroe Book 1)

  “Has anyone told you that you are incredibly stubborn?” she scoffed as she put her money back in her purse and jammed it back under her arm. She returned her scowl to me. Fuck she was cute.

  “Yeah, been told a few times.”

  “Well, it’s clear that you and your alphaness won’t take my money, so all I can say is thank you. I haven’t had a random man buy my lunch before, so I’ll be sure to remember it.”

  “You do that, sweetheart.”

  “I’m going to find a way to pay you back.”

  I smirked as numerous ways of her paying me back flashed through my head. I’d known her a long time; however, she’d only just met me. You didn’t live in Monroe and not know the Hamilton’s. The good, the bad, and the ugly. But there was nothing ugly about Sasha Hamilton. She was fucking phenomenal to look at. Loads of blonde hair that fell down to the middle of her back and begged to be wrapped around my fist, a tight body that had curves in all the right places, perfect lips that deserved to be feasted on, and eyes that had the potential to make the strongest men fall to their knees and beg for her mercy. Her expression and the pink tint crawling up her neck told me she’d clued in on what I was thinking, and how I imagined her paying me back. She was failing miserably at trying to hide the smile that was begging to cross her pretty little mouth.

  Stealing her eyes from me, she gave her head a little shake and then looked across the street to where her store was located. Sass. Even the name of her store suited her perfectly. I wasn’t a fan of home decor and had no desire to be, so it was a store I had never visited. But every time I’d drive or walk past, it was full of customers, and I knew a lot of people who were fans. My mother and sister bought the shit I needed for my house, because I wasn’t the kind of man to decorate. Though I did put my foot down when they started talking about fluffy cushions and Egyptian bath towels. I did not want or need that shit in my house.

  Whatever was ticking over in her head caused her to start biting her bottom lip again, and one of her hands moved back to her hip when she turned her attention back to me.

  “Do you like candles?”

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Can’t say I really think about candles, so I neither like nor dislike them.”

  Her eyes shot wide, and she took a step toward me. “Even men like you should have a candle collection.”

  “Men like me?”

  She moved her hand in a circular motion in front of me and her eyes followed her hand. ‘Yes, men like you.”

  Her eyes came back to mine and nervousness flashed within them. The shit happening at work had long been forgotten. Any tiredness I’d earlier felt disappeared the moment she said my name, and now I was wide awake, but Sasha had other ideas.

  She gave me nothing more. With a brief shake of her head, she turned around and walked off in the direction she came.

  And I watched her every step as she did.

  Reality punched me in the gut as I focused on the sway of her hips.

  She was going to be a distraction.

  The perfect kind of distraction.

  Fuck.

  4

  SASHA

  I’d been in avoidance mode for the past week, and so far I’d successfully avoided thinking of Drew’s ridiculous idea that I’d sell Hamilton’s, answering Edward’s constant barrage of text messages, and getting lost in the flashbacks of having my hands on Hunt’s chest.

  So far, so good.

  The front door of Sass chimed with the arrival of our newest customers, and I looked up from the invoice in front of me as the familiar feeling of his eyes swept over me. My smile froze when my eyes latched onto Hunt, who strolled in with a woman that wasn't the blonde I’d seen him with at Missy's. His lips twitched the briefest of acknowledgement my way before his attention moved to the stunning brunette beside him. I watched, totally intrigued, as she touched his arm tenderly and gave him a smile that lit up her whole face. He dropped his head slightly, a smile gracing his lips, and they talked quietly to each other before she linked arms with him and dragged him toward the soft furnishings.

  "Sash, wha—" Anna said as she exited the office and moved to the counter where I was standing. Her attention was now on our newest customer. "Holy crap."

  “That’s Mr. Blue Eyes,” I admitted softly when she reached me.

  “He bought you lunch?” she shrieked, loud enough for both Hunt and his lady to look our way, and loud enough for his lady to turn to him and shoot him a wide eye look.

  “Keep your voice down,” I hissed, before turning to Hunt and his lady, who were still watching me. “Sorry about that. I went on a lunch date three days ago, and Anna’s a little excited because she just saw him outside, walking his dog, outside on Main Street, today. Like just then.”

  I dropped my gaze as my cheeks warmed. I was a babbling fool. Seriously, if I was going to make up a story, I had to do some serious work on my material. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out I was lying. Anyway, why was I making up a story? He was clearly cheating on one of these women, and I hoped that it wasn’t the brunette.

  “I’m going to Missy’s to get afternoon tea. That means you’re going to have to see to our customers.”

  “Since when did you become boss?” I laughed.

  “Since you had a hot as hell man buy you lunch, and since that hot as hell man keeps looking over here.”

  She raised one of her perfectly shaped brows, slipped out from behind the counter, and left Sass without another word.

  Before I let my mind grab onto that knowledge, I concentrated on Anna leaving and watched her dash across the road to Missy’s. I turned my attention back to Hunt and his lady.

  With my shoulders back and my head held high, I stepped out from behind the counter. The click of my heels on the tiled floor seemed to be ridiculously loud, and Hunt’s head swung around. His gaze burned into my body as my hips swayed with every step I took. Yet again, I felt myself getting lost in the intensity of his stare. As I got closer, he dropped his mouth to the lady’s ear and spoke quietly, while his eyes remained locked firmly on me. She nodded, turned to him, and smiled, before looking back at the cushions and going about her business. With long strides, he moved in my direction, and I stopped moving.

  “We meet again,” he murmured as his eyes dropped down to take in my outfit when he reached me.

  “So it seems.”

  “Here for a throw rug. Fuck if I know what a throw rug is, though.” His gaze shifted from mine and looked over my shoulder as he murmured, "Dee will know what I want."

  Dee.

  “Which one is she?” I asked. “One or two? Or maybe three or four?”

  “Sweetheart, I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

  “You should stop calling me that.”

  “Not, go—”

  He stopped mid sentence, and his gaze moved over my shoulder. Shifting on my heels, I turned and watched the woman I now knew as Dee rush our way with a huge smile on her face. The moment her eyes raked over my outfit, taking in my skinny jeans, black off-the-shoulder top, and purple heels, I felt like I was under interrogation.

  “How in the world do you run a store while wearing amazing shoes like that?” she asked with a soft laugh and an appreciating glance at my heels.

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. As soon as I get home, I’m flip-flops all the way,” I replied with a wink.

  “I’ve got a call to make, so choose what you want, Dee.”

  Dee scoffed loudly, giving me a roll of her eyes, before turning to Hunt. "Ben, you really need to learn to appreciate beauty when it's in front of you. Seriously, look at those heels!”

  His name was Ben.

  Ben Hunt.

  Good god, even his name was sexy.

  Just kill me now.

  His jaw clenched, and his darkened gaze fell to my body. I tensed immediately. What the hell was he doing? Why was he looking at me like that when his woman was here? My breath wedged in the back of my t
hroat and time seemed to stop when his tongue wet his bottom lip. Yep, he was going to look at me like that. His eyes ran the length of my body without hindrance. He focused on everything—my breasts, my hips, my legs—and then he devoured his way back up my body until our eyes locked. Something I couldn’t read or understand flashed over his face, and for a fleeting moment his eyes softened before they went back to intense.

  “I saw it, and I appreciate it,” he declared in a voice that seemed like it was wrapped in seduction.

  He gave me another once over before he stepped away and put his phone to his ear. There was no mistaking the meaning behind his words. The possibility of him appreciating my heels was pretty far-fetched, even if they were super impressive. My God, he said and acted like that in front of his woman. What the hell was with that?

  Dee’s voice pulled me away from my thoughts. “I’m going to keep looking around your gorgeous store. It’s about time Ben let me decorate his place. He doesn’t mind changing things at my place, but it’s already been a year, and I’m yet to add my touches to his place.”

  How was she not ripping my hair out and clawing at my eyes? Her man had just looked at me in a way a taken man should not look at another woman. In a daze of confusion, I slipped back into storeowner mode and gave her a forced smile.

  “If you need me just call out.”

  I quickly turned and hurried across the store, desperate to get back to the security of the counter. Anna had returned and watched me with wide eyes.

  I slipped in beside her, grabbed my latte, slugged back half of it, and finally took a deep breath. “That’s definitely his woman. She's buying stuff for his house. By the sound of it, they are in a long-term relationship. Well, at least a year. Oh, and she said she likes my heels.”

  “But he—”

  “I know, and I don’t know what that was about.” I sighed as my heated body turned ice cold. “God only knows how many women he has. He probably has a harem, and draws them in with his gorgeous blue eyes, perfect bone structure, and rough voice. I don’t have time for that. I feel like its girl’s code to tell her about the blonde. She likes my heels, so she has good taste. She’d totally be someone I’d invite to wine time. Fuck, I’m conflicted.”

  “He looked at you like he wanted to consume you,” she whispered, her eyes wide and twinkling with intrigue.

  I sighed and couldn't stop my eyes from darting to the door he disappeared through, before coming back to her. “You’re not helping, babe.”

  “He took his time looking at you. He didn’t zoom right in on your boobs like most men would. He took a freaking double take, and boy did he make sure that memory stuck. I feel like I need a cigarette after witnessing that, and I don’t even smoke.”

  Anna got distracted by another customer and walked away to assist while I remained at the counter thinking about what she’d said. I couldn’t allow it to stick in my thoughts though. I prided myself in detachment. I couldn’t think of something that I wouldn’t allow into my life. Plus, he had two women.

  But that didn’t stop me from glancing at the door.

  He never came back in.

  “Wear sweatpants.”

  I stood in the middle of my room, my hands on my hips, chewing my lip and looking at the contents of my cupboard that had exploded onto my bed.

  Tonight was dinner with Edward, and to be honest, I was wishing for everything that could happen to happen so I wouldn’t have to go. So far, the universe was against me, and now I was getting ready. I’d sent an S.O.S to Missy and Shelley, and they came over with wine to help me decide what to wear to a non-date. I swear it was harder choosing a non-date outfit then it was to choose a real-date outfit. I wanted to look nice because I was going to one of the classier restaurants in Monroe, but I didn’t want to look too nice and have him making assumptions. Tonight, I planned on keeping conversation to a minimum, eating dinner in record speed, and forgoing dessert. Gasp.

  “I am not wearing sweatpants,” I sighed as I picked up a grey skirt, held it against my hips, and looked in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door.

  Nope. Too tight.

  “I cannot believe you are going through with this shit,” Missy muttered. She’d been vocal about this all week, and she made it very clear that she thought I was one more crazy decision away from being committed. And she made sure I knew that she’d be the one making the call for them to collect me. “I’m calling you every half hour, so keep your phone on the table. You better answer; otherwise, I am going to storm in there and cause a scene. And babe, you know I can cause a scene.”

  “Phone on. Half hour check ins. Got it.”

  She rolled her eyes while fighting a smile.

  I crossed one arm over my chest, while the other lifted my glass of wine to my lips, and I looked at the bed. Shelley and Missy spoke quietly to each other, while my mind started floating away.

  “Why do you think he paid for my lunch?”

  I felt two sets of eyes zoom in on me, and I took a big sip of wine before looking at them.

  And just like that, Ben Hunt stormed into my thoughts yet again.

  It had been four days since I saw him with woman number two at Sass, and here I was still thinking about it.

  Damn it.

  “You’re hot, you’ve got sass flowing in your veins, and you’ve got an ass I’d kill to have. That’s why he paid your bill.”

  “So it wasn’t my awesome personality?” I fake gasped.

  Missy’s laughter filled my bedroom. “No, babe, it wasn’t.”

  “Him on his own is phenomenal. When he comes in with his friend, its orgasmic.”

  What!

  “There are two of them? Why are you only telling me this now?”

  “Hunt and Hart. That’s who they are. Fucking gorgeous is what they are.”

  “I practically chased him down the street last week to pay him back. He refused my money, and then he and his lady came into Sass and—” I shook my head at the memory of him running his eyes over my body and how it made my insides turn to mush. “It wasn’t the woman I saw him with at the diner.”

  “You tried to pay him back?” Missy burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that her wine swished out of her glass and covered the carpet. Thank god it wasn’t red. “Wait . . . let me get this straight. You chased Hunt, the massive, broody, hot-as-fuck man who you’d just met and had some serious chemistry with, and went head to head with him down the street, waving money at him and demanding to pay him back for buying you lunch? Please tell me you were wearing heels! Oh, and a tight skirt. I’m visualizing here.”

  “I wasn’t waving money at him,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at my best friend who was still chuckling. “I do not need a man paying for me. Definitely not a man who has two women on the go. I don’t share, and I am not going to be one side of his triangle of women. And are you crazy? Of course I was wearing heels. It is me you are talking about.”

  “This is too much.”

  Shelley looked between us liked we’d lost our minds. She was still new to the craziness of Missy and Sasha, but she’d need to get to it quick. I gave her a small smile, and rolled my eyes in the direction of Missy.

  “You can’t beat a LBD,” Shelley announced, holding up a simple black dress and getting us back to the topic at hand.

  I lifted my wine back to my lips and took a sip while observing the dress. It was probably my less glitzy LBD. It sat at my knees, with a high neck, though it did fit me like a glove and accentuated my curves. It was the least scandalous dress I owned.

  “Yeah, that one screams dinner with a friend, not dinner with a man who is going to get up in there,” Missy said with a nod.

  I cringed at the thought of Edward getting up in there.

  I grabbed the dress and headed to the bathroom.

  The sooner I got this over and done with, the better.

  5

  BEN

  “Yeah,” I grunted into my cell after picking up on the second r
ing.

  “Homicide at the abandoned warehouse off Holt Boulevard. Be ready in five.”

  Austin hung up, and I went into autopilot mode.

  I switched on the lamp, threw back the comforter, climbed out of bed and walked into my closet, After dressing in a pair of jeans and a clean shirt, I pulled on my boots, jammed my phone in my back pocket, clipped on my badge, and secured my gun on my hip.

  I’d done this same routine thousands of times, but it never felt old.

  I switched off the lamp, and headed down the hall and toward the kitchen as an unsettling feeling secured itself low in my gut.

  Austin arrived in five minutes.

  First responders stood at the doors and spotlights beamed light into the abandoned warehouse. As soon as we stepped out of the car, a grim looking Officer Carey made his way toward us.

  "One body and witnesses report hearing at least four gunshots. We have men on all exits, so you’re good to go in.”

  We entered the warehouse with guns drawn and torches on. As we proceeded, the rain fell harder through the broken tiles and smashed above, and affected our visibility. I advanced, cautiously, with Austin on my heel. Scanning left to right, I squinted through the rain and could barely see a thing from the light of my torch. Then to my left, movement caught my eye and I halted.

  “Get on the ground,” I roared to the figure slowly coming toward Austin and me. They were either dumb as bat shit or hard of hearing, because they didn't stop. “Get on the fucking ground. Now!”

  “I’ve done nothing. I’m just delivering a package,” the assailant stuttered as he stepped into the light from Austin’s torch and raised both hands in surrender.