"I don't really like to talk about them," I said, cringing while we walked along the streets

crowded with pedestrians.

"I figured you just didn't want to admit you got robbed to them – worry them – and that was why you seemed so desperate. Usually people run home to daddy and mommy when things don't work out."

I snorted at that. "Not my father and mother. My mother's a control freak and my dad is the local Gestapo."

"He a police officer?"

"No. Let's just say that he's powerful and leave it at that."

A moment of silence passed and I glanced at him, only to see a frown creasing his brow.

"Look, he's a very important person in government. He has no idea I'm in trouble and I intend to keep it that way," I said.

"What did you say your last name was?"

"Carlson." Then I kicked myself mentally. I hoped he didn't feel like he had to call my father and let him know I was having problems.

"Carlson," he said. "From New Hampshire?"

"Yes, but I honestly want to figure this out without him getting involved."

"Okay, I promise."

"Look," I said when he stopped outside the pub. "My father is a big cheese and a very important person. I don't contact him for help because I want to be free of him. That's all you need to know about me."

"Say no more." He opened the door and we walked inside.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye, still impressed with how big and brawny and handsome he was. The way my body responded to his presence suggested I had a lot to fear from myself if he ever made any kind of advance.

Of course, the thought of him making an advance sent a thrill through my body right to my core.

God, I had to get a grip on myself...

Chapter Twelve

Joshua

Frank's was one of those hole in the wall pubs you can find down side streets in Manhattan that only the locals know about. It was busy on most nights and had a great happy hour, with snacks and cheap but good draft on tap. My staff frequented the place almost daily, after work, before a long night of meeting deadlines, or for a quick meal before going home. It felt like a second home to me, and I knew the other staff felt the same way.

When I walked in with Ella beside me, all eyes turned to us and ranged over her hungrily. She walked a little bit behind me like she was shy, but stood up straighter when we got to the table.

"Hey, guys, this is Ella Carlson. She works in our building. " Then I turned to Ella. "Ella, this is the gang. She's the one who gave me the bloody knees yesterday."

The guys all sat up straighter, saying hello to her, shaking her hand and introducing themselves. They were a bunch of management types who ran the accounting side of the Chronicle for me.

"He's a crazy man on that bike," Monroe said. "Are you joining us?"

"Nope, sorry," I replied, wanting to keep her from them. "We're going to sit closer to the front away from the music."

"Enjoy," Monroe said and held up his beer.

I led Ella to the front of the bar, into a nice booth away from the staff and DJ. She slipped into the booth and I sat beside her.

"They're pretty well-dressed for bike couriers," she said.

I smiled to myself. I was debating whether to keep up the ruse about being a bike courier, and wasn't entirely sure I was going to tell her the truth.

Tags: S.E. Lund The Macintyre Brothers Erotic
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