Bad Boy Alphas Collection Read online

  The truth was, Ariana was right. It had been entirely too long since I had last dated, and I did miss it terribly. I craved a man’s touch when I’ve had a long day at work, those stolen kisses when we’re out of time, hot breath against my neck and someone to cuddle up to. Someone I could share stories and laugh with.

  Of course those were things I missed. I was a warm-blooded woman who had needs and desires, just like everyone else. Contrary to what Ariana might believe, I hadn’t actively planned for this to happen.

  It just sort of did.

  Because I was tired of being manipulated and lied to.

  A series of failed relationships, maybes and almosts had pretty much guaranteed that I wouldn’t be looking at any man for a long time, but now that I was finally ready to try again, I was much pickier.

  Could you blame me?

  After everything I’d been through, I deserved someone who would actually treat me right. No more drama or mind games.

  I didn’t think that what I wanted was that hard to find.

  I wasn’t being unreasonable, after all.

  Wanting a man who was loyal and honest didn’t seem that far-fetched to me. In fact, considering what a lot of women demanded of men these days, I thought my standards were fairly low.

  Income and physical attributes were not of consequence to me.

  However, given how I’d hit a dry patch recently, you’d think I wanted Prince Harry to come galloping in on his steed.

  Why was I even thinking about this?

  I shook my head as I continued to inspect the party and make sure everything was coming along nicely. The chef was almost done with the food, and the caterers were already laying it out in the exact manner Mrs. Tremblay specified.

  The entire house was decorated in shades of silver and a soft white that made it seem like a winter wonderland. It was more like a mansion than a house with its huge lawn, massive patio, high vaulted ceilings, marble foyer, seven bedrooms, eight bathrooms, and the backyard.

  I had no idea how someone could be comfortable living in such a huge, soulless house, but it wasn’t for me to judge. They seemed to enjoy it.

  As per Mrs. Tremblay’s request, we left the lawn untouched and perfectly manicured to a T. The grass looked like it was imported as opposed to the natural look Mrs. Tremblay was going for, so I went inside to instruct them to switch on the sprinklers for a bit.

  Also, I would need to search for a watering can because some of the potted flowers looked like they were in desperate need of watering.

  I took a quick look at Ariana to make sure she didn’t need any help, and when I found her occupied with the musicians, I gave her a thumbs-up and relaxed. All the people working this job tonight were people I’d done business with before.

  They were my preferred partners because they knew exactly what they were doing, and they were smart enough to realize that we needed to stick together to make it in this cutthroat business, so we had an arrangement. One that worked out well for both parties.

  I knew the party was in good hands.

  I was so focused on finding an empty spray can that I didn’t notice Aspen hiding behind one of the potted plants and gazing morosely at her party. She had on a pair of designer jeans, and a top that made her look older than her age. With her dark brown hair and blue eyes, she looked like a porcelain china doll.

  I pretended not to see her until I was directly in front of her, when I bent down and patted her head. “Are you okay?”

  She looked up at me with solemn eyes. “Mummy doesn’t like it when I stare.”

  “It’s not fun to stare, Aspen, why don’t you go play with your toys? I’m sure you’d enjoy that way more.”

  “I’m not allowed to play upstairs. Mummy says I need to see how everything is done, so I can learn stuff.”

  She bounced on the tips of her toes as she clasped her hands behind her back. Here was a kid who clearly had a lot of pent up energy and needed to release it, but she wasn’t allowed to because of familial expectations.

  It annoyed me to no end. Why weren’t this generation of parents allowing their kids to be kids? They were in such a hurry for them to grow up and take responsibility that I don’t think they fully realized what that entails.

  Who didn’t want to get scabs on their knees and dirt beneath their fingernails? It was a sign of a childhood well lived. Something told me that Mrs. Tremblay didn’t allow her daughter to do that, and I knew it wasn’t my place to intervene, but Aspen looked so sad, and I couldn’t help myself.

  “Why don’t you help me spray some plants outside?” I held out my hand and smiled at her encouragingly.

  She stared at as if unsure what to do her until her warm hand clasped in mine, and I tugged on it. She showed me where to find empty watering cans, we filled them up with water, and we set out.

  “You know, my little sister loves garden,” I said, conversationally. “But she always did make a mess.”

  “Really?”

  “Really, really,” I confirmed. “My mom would always go crazy when she saw the kind of messes my sister made.”

  “Did your sister get in trouble for doing that?” Aspen asked, solemnly, her expression thoughtful as she paused what she was doing.

  “She didn’t get in trouble for playing. She would only get in trouble if she didn’t clean up after herself because you know it’s important to clean up your own messes.”

  Aspen nodded eagerly. “Yes, I like to do that, but mummy says it isn’t my job.”

  This kid was going to grow up to have serious issues if her mom kept going at this rate, and she was going to give her parents a hell of a time especially once she realized the kind of privilege she was born into.

  Pity washed over me in spades, and I wished I could warn her, but there was nothing I could do.

  “What’s your favorite color, Aspen?” I asked, deftly changing the subject. Regardless of my own personal opinion, it was not my place to contradict what her mother said, and even if I didn’t agree, I didn’t know all the facts. Perhaps there was a reason she chose this particular parenting technique, and maybe if I knew, I would understand why.

  Aspen thought for a moment, her eyebrows scrunched together as she gave the matter some serious thought in a way that only an eight-year-old knew how.

  “Green,” she said, finally, her blue eyes alight with amusement.

  “Green, huh? That’s a good color. Just green or dark green?”

  Aspen tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Emerald green.”

  “Emerald green, wow. That sounds fancy.” I gave her a grin. “That’s a nice color, Aspen. How about green like the grass?”

  Aspen made a face. “Well, grass is pretty, but no not green like the grass.”

  I set the spray can aside and took off my shoes, allowing my toes to dig into the freshly cut grass. I sighed as I relished how it felt against my feet, cool and soft.

  Aspen stared at me in surprise, her mouth slightly open. “Your feet are touching the grass.”

  She was acting like I’d walked on water as opposed to just taking off my shoes. Yet another thing I was willing to bet she wasn’t allowed to do.

  “Yeah, and it feels great. Cool and soft. Kind of ticklish.”

  “Really?” Her voice was filled with awe as she stared down at her feet longingly. She darted a quick glance at the front door, no doubt wondering if her mom was about to emerge in a cloud of fiery smoke to extract her vengeance.

  Aspen tilted her chin up stubbornly, her blue eyes blazing as she reached down and took off her sandals. The look of pure unfettered joy on her face as her toes made contact with the squishy grass was a delight to watch.

  “I think I like grass green,” she admitted quietly as she wriggled her toes and giggled.

  “Yeah, me too, but I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite color.”

  Aspen tilted her head to the side as she spread her arms out like a bird. “What is your favorite color?”

  I thought for a secon
d. “Blue.”

  “Blue like my eyes?” She smiled, and it light up her whole face.

  “Sure, Aspen, you’ve got very pretty eyes.”

  “Thank you,” she beamed as she rocked back and forth. “Why do you like planning events?”

  “I think it’s fun to plan them,” I answered simply as I ran my fingers over one of the leaves to make sure the water was spread out evenly.

  “But they’re events for other people,” Aspen pointed out, clearly confused.

  “Sure, but they make other people happy, right?”

  “I guess,” Aspen sounded skeptical as if she didn’t quite believe that. The concept of doing things to make other people happy wasn’t new to her, but she still wasn’t able to grasp why an adult would willingly do that.

  “I like planning events that can make people happy. I like making their moments special,” I admitted as I frowned. “I need to fix this little beauty.”

  I sunk to my knees and used my hands to dig in the dirt. Once I had freed up enough space, I adjusted the flower that was falling precariously, barely hanging on.

  I began to dust my hands in satisfaction as Aspen watched me in amusement.

  “You’re funny,” she declared. “And you like to play in the dirt outside. I like that.”

  I laughed. “Thank you, Aspen. I like you too.”

  That was one of the things I admired most about kids. Their unfiltered honesty. There were times when it got them in trouble, but they persisted nevertheless. Because society hadn’t molded them into polite adults yet. They could still get away with saying outrageous things.

  “I think that we should play with the water,” Aspen announced as she smiled wickedly.

  “What do you—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Aspen had aimed the spray can at me and splashed me with water. My eyes reflexively squeezed shut, and I chuckled as I let her have her fun. When she was done, I spit the water caught in my throat to the side which only made her laugh more.

  “That’s what you mean.” I pushed my wet hair out of my face and glanced down at the front of my clothes which were slight soaked, but they were manageable. It was a good thing I had a change of clothes in the car.

  “You can’t—”

  I returned the favor and watched as Aspen’s eyes grew as wide as saucers before they sparkled with mirth and delight. I crouched and took off after Aspen whose shrieks of delight echoed throughout the garden. She ran smack into a man who was crossing the lawn, and who looked startled when he righted her to keep her from falling.

  Aspen gazed at him, her mouth slightly agape. From my vantage point, it was obvious that he wasn’t one of the people hired to work the party tonight, and he looked a little intimidating with his broad chest and tattoos.

  Aspen seemed frozen in fear, and I quickened my pace to get to her.

  Chapter Two

  I didn’t know who this man was, or what he wanted, but Aspen was scared out of her mind when I finally approached her.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to bump into you, honest.”

  When I finally reached Aspen, I placed my hand on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin in fright. She shifted her body, so it was partially obscured by me, and I let her.

  “It’s okay,” the man said, his voice slightly deep and gravelly.

  As if he’d smoked one too many cigarettes.

  Up close, he was a lot more attractive than I originally noticed with his dark jet-black hair, wide chest, and muscled arms.

  Here was a man who was obviously used to being checked out because when my eyes finally dragged themselves to his, I found myself staring into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.

  And he looked smug about it.

  My eyes immediately narrowed in response as I placed my hand on my hips. Unfortunately, this drew attention to my breasts which were prominently showing because of my wet shirt, and I could see he noticed that too.

  He wasn’t nearly as discreet as he thought he was. Not that he was trying to be. He made no apologies to the fact that he was ogling me, nor was he trying to hide it.

  He wanted me to know.

  Arrogant bastard.

  I already didn’t like him.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, my voice sounding haughty and prim. I bet even Mrs. Tremblay would be proud.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking for the Tremblay’s.”

  “This is their residence,” I informed him, tartly as I crossed my arms over my chest. I was aware that it wasn’t helping my case, but I was too ticked off to care.

  Aspen peaked out from behind me. “My mom is inside. My Daddy is at work.”

  “I see.” The tall dark-haired stranger nodded. “Can you tell your mommy that I’m here to see her?”

  Aspen looked to me for assurance, and I nodded tightly, but before Aspen could move, the sound of her mother’s shrill voice resonated, so that even we could hear her from a distance.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  Dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

  Shit.

  How was I supposed to explain this?

  I could say that I was watering the plants, but my shirt was going to give me away, and so was Aspen’s. She would probably cut some of my pay for being unprofessional, but it was poor Aspen who would get the brunt of her anger.

  Aspen, who wanted nothing more than to play like a normal eight-year-old. Even now, I could feel her shrink in fear behind me beneath the weight of her mother’s furious gaze. I comfortingly laid a hand on her shoulder and kept it there.

  Mrs. Tremblay continued to level us with a gaze that would’ve melted even the polar caps, so eventually we all shuffled forward like some irate schoolchildren who were about to get a lecture from the headmistress.

  The trek from the front of the lawn to the house seemed to take forever. Time was moving forward at an agonizingly slow pace although I knew that it wasn’t that far. It was simply our perception.

  “Explain yourself.” She swung her gaze to me, her lips pressed into a thin line as her hazel eyes, so like her daughter’s in shape, pinned me.

  “I was watering the plants, and Aspen came outside to look for me because my colleague couldn’t find me,” I lied, smoothly.

  Mrs. Tremblay raised one perfectly drawn eyebrow. “And why is your shirt wet, Ms. Davenport?”

  “I forgot that the sprinklers were supposed to come on,” I explained as I gestured to the wet grass around us. Thankfully, the sprinklers had started a few minutes before the mysterious stranger arrived, so it didn’t look like I was lying.

  “And I suppose my daughter came out without knowing this either?”

  I wasn’t sure if she believed me or not, but it looked like she was inclined to. After all, she had no reason not to. Nobody was contradicting what I said especially not Aspen who was moving her head up and down so fast, she looked like a life-sized bobble head.

  Mrs. Tremblay sighed as she pressed her fingers to her temple. “Come, Aspen. Brigette will see to it that you change out of your clothes. We don’t want you catching a cold now, do we?”

  Aspen shook her head as she reluctantly moved from behind me and headed towards her mother. She shot me one last grateful look over her shoulder, a small smile hovering on the edge of her lips as she allowed herself to be led away by the French maid.

  Mrs. Tremblay cleared her throat. “Ms. Davenport, I trust that you have a change of clothes somewhere. If not, I’m sure we can find you something.”

  I gave her a professional smile as I straightened my spine. “I have a spare change of clothes in my car.”

  “Excellent. Decorum, Ms. Davenport,” she reminded me as she threw her shoulders back and looked at the stranger who was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, and a Cigarettes After Sex t-shirt. Her gaze lingered on the t-shirt, and I could see the creases on her forehead deepen in disapproval.

  “I assume you are Mr. Donovan?”

 
; “I am.” He held out his hand, and Mrs. Tremblay awkwardly shook it with the tip of her fingers as if she was afraid of him. I could see that she was weary, and to be honest, I was still trying to figure out what he was doing here.

  She didn’t seem like the type to hire a man who looked like that, since appearance mattered that much to her.

  “You came highly recommended,” Mrs. Tremblay said although her tone suggested that she didn’t quite believe it. “If you’ll just wait right here, I’ll ask Carl to come and show you what the problem is.”

  Mrs. Tremblay nodded at both of us before she turned on her heel and left. A little bit of the tension in the air went away, and I sagged under the weight of it as I quietly drew in a breath.

  “Holy shit, that woman sure doesn’t kid around, does she?”

  I blinked as I realized that he was talking to me. “No, she’s the meticulous sort.”

  The man snorted. “Meticulous isn’t the word I would use. I’ve dealt with a lot of people, and I know her type.”

  “Do you usually bad mouth your clients, Mr. Donovan?” I raised an eyebrow as I maintained eye contact.

  “That depends,” he ventured as his mouth curved into half a smile.

  “On?”

  “It’s working, isn’t it?”

  “You’re doing this, so you can talk to me?” I asked, incredulously.

  Why?

  There was no reason for us to interact.

  He obviously had the whole bad boy thing going for him, and I really wasn’t interested in that. I’d been there and done that.

  Had the scars to prove it, and I wasn’t about to go down that road again.

  Though I couldn’t deny that I was seriously attracted to him.

  Maybe that was just my libido kicking into overdrive.

  “After our earlier introduction, I figured it was good way to start over.” He smirked as he shoved his hands in his pocket.

  “You mean before or after you stared at my breasts?” I countered, hotly.

  One eyebrow climbed to his hairline in surprise. “Alright since we’re being honest. It was after you started checking me out.”

  My face turned beet red. “I was not checking you out.”