Until You Set Me Free: Book 1 in the Until You Series Read online

  “Y’all suck,” Jace growls, throwing his arms up and stomping out of the room.

  He’s not really mad, just sensitive about us not believing he won’t leave us for a piece of ass.

  Shrugging, I start to head out of the kitchen, but then feel bad for leaving Joseph. I turn around. “Do you need anything? Did Jace show you the guest room?”

  “No, not yet. We came in the kitchen to eat as soon as we got in. I haven’t even gotten my stuff out of the car.”

  When his eyes lock on mine, I swear I feel a zap of electricity running between us. His nostrils flare, and his chest rises. Am I affecting him as much as he is me? He looks at me as if he can read my thoughts, knows my desires, and can hear the quickening of my pulse.

  He truly is a god of a man with his purely masculine features, thick wavy hair, and eyes that see things they probably shouldn't. He makes me feel things I know I shouldn't.

  “Come on, Joseph, let me help you get settled.”

  His smile lights up his face and does crazy things to my body. “I’d like that, Samantha.”

  Samantha

  I MAKE IT TO work with plenty of time to spare. I didn’t exactly sneak out of the house, but I did make a point to be quiet as I left my room and descended the stairs, hoping not to run into Joseph. He’s on my mind enough as it is; I didn’t need the added distraction of seeing him just before I left.

  I love my job for two reasons. One: I don't have to focus on my future here. I don't have time to think about school work or what needs to get done for me to keep my high grade point average. This place is always busy, and I just have to focus on being friendly and making the few moments I interact with the customers as pleasant as possible. And two: I get to wear black. All black. Every day. All day. I feel comfortable in black. I feel safe. Secure. And even sexy. Sometimes.

  “Hey, Sam.” Trent, my friendly and on-spot boss, greets me as I put my purse away and clock in.

  “Hey. How’s it going tonight?” I’m sure he got here a few hours ago, even though he tries to keep his evening hours to a minimum for his family. That’s a hard thing to do in the restaurant business when nights are where the money is.

  “It’s a good night. A bit slow for a Friday, but hopefully it’ll pick up.” He turns to leave. “Oh, there’s a guy at the bar. He was asking for you.”

  My hand pauses midway to setting my time card back into its slot. “A guy? For me?” I hate the surprise in my voice. It’s not likely a guy would be asking for me, but I don't have to make it so obvious.

  He laughs. “Yes, Sam.” His inflection is firm. “Take your time. Becca’s got the hostess stand covered.” He waves over his head as he slips out front.

  As I near the bar, the air thickens and sizzles. And then I see him. Sitting there with his back to me, facing the door and the hostess stand.

  Somehow, he senses me, turning as I approach.

  That sizzle I felt a moment ago morphs into a full-fledged roaring inferno when his eyes lock on me. I stutter in my steps and trip into his side. He catches me in his capable arms as he pivots on his stool in one smooth, graceful move. Completely unlike me, who tripped over thin air simply because of the intensity of his gaze.

  “You okay, Samantha?” He studies my face and rights my body, still holding me tightly around the waist against his solid chest, locked between his massive thighs.

  Jesus. Fuck.

  “I…uh…yeah.” My hands splay across his perfectly-formed chest.

  “Samantha?” His voice is low and powerful, like its pure frequency alone could produce enough energy to power a small town.

  It’s making my heart beat a million miles a minute and my brain foggy. “Hmmm?”

  His smirking mouth knows too much. “You okay?” He clasps my cheek and encircles my waist, holding me securely in place. His green steamy gaze eats me up.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I push away from the inferno that’s Joseph McIntyre. “I’m sorry.” I run my hands down my blouse and skirt like they need to be ironed out.

  His hands release me slowly, as if reluctant to let me go. A chill courses through my body as the cool air hits the places he warmed with his touch.

  If he notices, he doesn’t let on. “No need to apologize. I’m just glad I was here to catch you.” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

  “I wouldn’t have needed catching if you hadn’t been here in the first place.” I’m not clumsy by nature, but this man throws me off, keeps me off balance. Literally and figuratively. I knew I’d jinx myself worrying I’d trip in front of him.

  He laughs. He actually laughs.

  It’s a nice round and robust sound. I can’t hide my smile.

  “What are you doing here anyway, Joseph?” I scan the bar. “Where’s Jace?”

  His smile drops. “He had a date.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, right. A date,” I say with air quotes.

  He shrugs, not confirming or denying. “My family’s out of town,” he says simply, as if that explains why he’s here instead of at home or at a real bar hanging out with friends.

  We stare at each other for a moment. It should be uncomfortable, but, strangely, it’s not.

  “I have to get to work.”

  “Have dinner with me,” he says at the same time.

  “What?” The word escapes before I can fully process what he said.

  He looks chagrined. “Have dinner with me, Samantha.”

  I start to protest, but he raises his hand to halt my objection. “I know you’re working.” He motions around the restaurant. “They’re not too busy. Perhaps they could spare you for an hour.”

  Ignoring my speeding pulse, I notice it might be possible, but really, it’s just so unexpected. Why would he want to have dinner with me? I spot Trent watching us. He’s amused, and I’m sure I’ll hear about it later.

  I step back. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” I make my way to the hostess station before Joseph can respond or change my mind.

  Samantha

  “Sir, I assure you we will seat you as soon as a table fitting your party’s size becomes available.” I shoot my co-hostess a look for assistance in reassuring this guy. He’s offended we’ve seated others who arrived after his party and doesn’t comprehend, or care, that the smaller parties he’s referring to are easier to accommodate.

  What group of eight men come to eat at the Cheesecake Factory, anyway? Go to a bar for god’s sake.

  Thankfully Becca smiles and assures him it shouldn’t be much longer. I give her a nod of thanks.

  “Well, honey, you’re so sweet you make the wait worthwhile.” He oozes with false charm, making my skin crawl.

  “Thank you, sir.” I reply half-hoping he was speaking to Becca.

  He stays at the hostess stand, talking to his friends standing near the bar, but still within ear shot. “Pete, isn’t she the sweetest? I think I should take her home.”

  Seriously? He’s talking about taking me home like I have no say in the matter. I try to ignore him and scan the room, praying for a table to open.

  “Yeah, man. Maybe she’s got a friend or two who can join us,” his friend replies.

  I lean in to Becca and lower my voice. “Can you find Trent? Tell him we have a potential problem? If you don't find him, tell Bruce. He’s big enough to scare them off.”

  Becca nods and flees. I wish I were the one leaving this uncomfortable situation instead of her.

  “Where’s your friend going, honey?” He doesn’t seem to miss a thing.

  I step to the side, keeping the hostess stand between us. He’s making me uncomfortable, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced. My customer service skills tell me to remain nice, until nice is no longer appropriate. I’ve just about reached the tipping point. However, I’d rather Trent be the one to make that call.

  “She’s going to check the tables,” I offer, trying to busy myself so perhaps he’ll back off and give me a break. Unfortunately, they’re the only group waiting at the moment.

>   He moves closer and grabs my arm before I can respond. He reeks of beer and cigarettes, making my stomach churn. “Why you hiding back there, honey? You should come out here and have a drink with us.” His fingers dig into my skin as he pulls me from behind the hostess stand.

  I gasp and try to jerk my arm free, but he’s got a death grip on my upper arm. “Let go of me,” I demand, working to steady my breathing and not give in to my rising panic.

  He steps into me. “Not until you agree to have a drink with me.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Joseph’s deep voice comes from behind me. His arm wraps around my waist, and I instantly start to calm. “I suggest you do as the lady asks and release her arm.” The menace in his voice cannot be missed by this guy, even if he’s had one too many drinks.

  “Find your own female. I saw her first,” he spits back at Joseph, squeezing my arm tighter.

  I whimper as his fingers dig into my flesh as he tries to pull me out of Joseph’s hold. “You’re hurting me.” My voice trembles. Shit.

  “I warned you.” In a flash, Joseph has a death grip on the guy’s wrist while he peels his fingers off my arm. I think if it weren’t for my arm being attached to the guy, Joseph would have taken him down by now. But since I could be collateral damage, he’s taking it easy until I’m free of his grasp.

  Trent and Bruce show up with Scott, who’s as big as a house and one of our head chefs. He puts his hand on Joseph’s shoulder with a nod of solidarity.

  Joseph releases the guy with a small shove, allowing Scott to step in.

  Trent crosses his arms. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”

  I’m not sure if it’s Trent's words or the appearance of three more guys to defend me, but whatever it is, I’m thankful as the guy finally steps back. Joseph guides me back from the line of fire and into his side.

  Trent, Bruce, and Scott step in front of us, forming a protective wall. His friends don't seem to want a fight, but the guy is not backing down and starts to make more of a scene.

  Joseph walks us farther away before turning me to face him. “You okay?”

  I nod. “He scared me. I’m fine.”

  I’m shaking. Why am I shaking?

  He pulls me into his arms, and I don't resist. His hand cups my head to his chest as he holds me tightly. “You’re okay, Samantha. I’ve got you.”

  I relax into him, feeling safe in the comfort of his arms.

  With my eyes clamped closed, I’m lost in the feel of him holding me, soothing my body with his hands and gentle words. As I start to come down from the frenzy of whatever that was, my breath steadies, but I’m still off-kilter.

  “You okay, Sam?” Trent asks from behind me.

  Joseph pivots so I can see Trent without moving away from his embrace.

  Trent’s brow rises as he takes us in, making me self-conscious. I pull away. Joseph slowly releases me but captures my hand, keeping me close.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” I nod toward the hostess stand. “Sorry about that.”

  Both Trent and Joseph snort in unison.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. He’s an ass,” Trent says.

  “I could have handled it better. Put an end to it sooner before he was even able to get close enough to grab me.”

  “Sam, stop. You handled the situation professionally and with class, which is more than I can say for him,” Trent insists.

  “He was trying to show off for his friends and too drunk to listen to reason, Samantha. Don’t second-guess yourself.” Joseph squeezes my hand.

  Trent motions to Joseph. “If you’re hungry, I can set ya’ll up at the bar. Then take Sam home. She’s had enough excitement for one night.” He stops my protest. “I don't want to see you back here until the Friday after Thanksgiving.”

  “Trent, I have shifts on the new schedule. I can work. I don't need the time off.”

  “You won’t be out any money if that’s what you’re worried about. You’ll be paid for your shifts. But I think it’s a good idea you take the week off. When you do come back, no walking to your car alone. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” I don't have it in me to fight. If he wants to pay me for not working, I’m not going to argue. At least not tonight.

  “Good. It’s settled. Order whatever you want; it’s on the house.”

  He shakes hands with Joseph and gives me a quick hug before Joseph leads me to the bar. “Looks like you’re having dinner with me after all.”

  I shake my head in mock disapproval. “Don't look so smug about it.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “I can’t help it. I like it when things go my way.”

  “Yes, I’m quite sure you do.”

  He looks at me pointedly with fire burning in his eyes. “Count on it, Samantha.”

  Joseph

  I’VE PRACTICALLY HAD A hard-on since she walked into Jace’s kitchen. Her sass, her confidence, and angelic face knock me clean over. And Christ, those blue eyes, long auburn hair, and red, pouty lips. She’s Jace’s sister, and she’s only seventeen, but fuck me running backwards with a dog in my arms, she’s something else.

  Not like I’m thinking of her in that way.

  Who am I kidding? I’m totally thinking of her in that way.

  And don’t get me started on loving how much she loves her brother. They have a great relationship. It’s fun, but it’s also genuine. They know each other and love each other anyway. Jace can’t shut up about his kid sister. When my parents announced they were going skiing for Thanksgiving, I took the standing invite from Jace to spend the holiday with his family. I had no idea what I was in for. It probably would’ve been smarter to go with my brothers to Cabo. I can’t say I regret it, though.

  I can’t get involved with Samantha. I know this. But as she worked the hostess stand in that fitted black skirt, simple black blouse, and nearly CFM black pumps, I can’t seem to remember why. My mouth goes dry, my heart rate increases, and my thoughts go places they shouldn’t. Not just because of my career priorities. Not just because she’s Jace’s sister. Not just because she’s young, inexperienced, naïve, and has her whole future ahead of her.

  It’s all of those things that should make me run the other way as fast as I can. And yet, here I sit like a lonely sap, aching for a girl who looks like a goddess and is genuine to the bone. There is no pretense. What you see is what you get. If she’s flustered, it shows. If she’s mad, put off, it shows. If she’s turned on, Christ Almighty, it shows.

  Her fingers lazily skim the rim of her glass of iced tea. Her lower lip, captured between her teeth while her middle finger circles over and over again. It’s sexy as hell, and my cock stirs at the sight.

  Fuck.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  With a shy smile and minimalistic nod, she breaks the seduction of her iced tea, taking a deep drink.

  Damn, if that’s not sexy as hell too. Double fuck.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Not dinner per se, but showing up at her work. Period. For the life of me, I don’t regret sitting here in companionable silence. I don’t give a shit if she doesn’t say a word, I’m just glad she’s okay after that man…I shake the thought away, lest I track him down in the parking lot. I can see her mind working, her face reacting in the smallest of ways to whatever’s going on in that head of hers. I wish she would share. Particularly those thoughts that make her bite her lip and blush.

  Christ. She takes my breath away.

  “Tell me about your brothers. I know Fin is the oldest, and then Matt is your middle brother, but I don’t know much else.”

  “Like you said, Fin is my oldest brother at twenty-five. He’s great at his job, but he’s an even better brother. He’s single and looking, but he’s more dedicated to the job than the search for the one.”

  “Isn’t he named after your grandfather? Finley McIntyre founded MCI with his brothers, right?”

  More surprises from the auburn
-haired beauty to my right. “Yes. That’s correct.” I turn to face her. “What else do you know about MCI?”

  She swirls her straw in her drink, not meeting my gaze. “McIntyre Corporate Industries was founded by your dad’s dad, Finley, and his brothers Maximus and Gabriel. Your father, Hugh, is the current CEO. Fin is the VP of Accounting and Finance, and Matt’s the VP of Marketing.” She glances sideways. “And you’re going to be the VP of Product & Technology.”

  The last part, about me, was said with a pout, as if it makes her sad.

  “You’ve done your research.”

  She rotates on her barstool toward me, her lips drawn in contemplation. “I’ve met your brothers.”

  “Really?” Why didn’t either of them mention having met Jace’s sister? And more importantly, “Where?”

  “They were really nice. Surprisingly down to earth.”

  My hand goes up. “Wait. Why do I feel like you’re trying not to tell me something?”

  Her crooked smile is endearing and draws me further into her spell. “Because I am.”

  I wait her out, arms crossed, one brow raised, with a smirk that trumps hers.

  She breaks. Finally. “Okay…okay.” Her blue eyes sparkle with mirth as her hands gesture in supplication. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I’m actually surprised you don’t already know. I interned at MCI this past summer—”

  “What?”

  “—I plan to return this summer and then apply for a job after college.” She cringes like she’s getting ready to give me some bad news. “And…apparently, you’re going to be my boss.”

  Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been groomed for the job by my father, grandfather, and uncles for as long as I can remember. I know everything about my department. I run my hand over my face and pin her with my stare. “Seriously? How did I not know this?”

  “I don’t know, really. Fin and Matt approached me last summer as I was leaving for the day. They introduced themselves, which was completely unnecessary. I was shocked they were approaching me.” Her face lights up as she laughs. “I thought I did something wrong—that they were coming to fire or reprimand me.”