Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [8]
He tracked her as she lifted the tray of scones and moved toward the door, carefully ignoring him as she did. The lack of acknowledgment made him hope that the awareness he felt around her was returned. He’d been a teenager the last time a woman had so thoroughly unsettled him without a single word. He didn’t appreciate the sensation.
Angie’s wooden spoon connected with his elbow.
“Ow! Dammit, Angie, that hurt!”
“Don’t even think about it.” Angie had one hand fisted on her hip, the other brandishing her weapon of choice. Disapproval pinched her face.
“Jesus, Angie. I didn’t say anything…” The spoon connected with his knee before he could move.
“You’ll watch your mouth in this kitchen, Braden Edwards.”
“Sorry. I’m going.” He grabbed his coffee and stood.
“Nice try, slick.” Angie hooked her arm through his and spun him toward the back door. “You leave Beth alone.”
Braden stopped just inside the kitchen. “What happened to a good woman would do you wonders?”
“Not that one.” Her tone sliced through his amusement. “She’s complicated. Not quick to socialize.” Angie’s tone went soft. “There’s a past there. She’s not suited to casual romances.”
Braden stared over Angie’s head, willing Beth to walk back into the kitchen. “Do you think she’s in trouble?” The question left his lips before he’d fully thought it through. The surge of concern he felt for a woman he didn’t know should have bothered him. It worried him that it didn’t.
“That’s not our business.” Angie shoved him toward the door, ending the conversation.
“Sure.” He wouldn’t press the issue. For now. “Later, Ange.” He let the promise hang between them as he stepped outside.
Chapter Three
Braden stepped out of the elevator into the seventh floor lobby of Edwards Construction.
“Good morning, Mr. Edwards.” Shirley Marks strode toward him, her practical heels clicking against the wood floor like a metronome.
“Morning, Shirley. My brother in yet?”
“He’s been and gone.” Braden heard the frown in Shirley’s voice as she followed him down the hall to his office. “You were supposed to be in over an hour ago. If you had called I could have rescheduled him.”
Shirley had been Braden’s executive assistant for almost five years. Neat, organized and professional, she managed the office with military precision. Deviation from schedule was never tolerated.
“I ran a little late. I’ll catch up with him later.”
Shirley tsked as she retrieved a file from her desk. “Your brother left these for you to sign. The yellow tabs mark the areas requiring your signature.”
Braden glanced through the folder. “Any calls this morning?”
“None so far. Will there be anything else?”
“Not right now. Thank you, Shirley,” he said as he unlocked the door to his office.
“You’re in late this morning.”
Braden spun, adrenaline pulsing through his system, tightening his body and honing his senses. “Christ, Chase. You damned near gave me a heart attack.” Braden sank into the chair at his desk, willing his muscles to uncoil, blinking against the suddenly harsh fluorescent lighting. “Asshole.”
“Way to use those killer instincts.” A wide, toothy grin accompanied Chase across the room, where he sprawled in one of the leather club chairs opposite the desk. He was utterly relaxed in a worn pair of jeans, navy blue sweatshirt, and sneakers that had seen too much action. But he looked good—whole and healthy.
“How’d you get past Shirley?” Braden asked.
“The woman gets her coffee at the same time every morning. She probably schedules time to take a piss.” The humor slipped from Chase’s face and his dark blue eyes tightened. “You should be more concerned that I slipped past you.”
Braden sighed. Chase had spent so much of his childhood