Page 88 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

Chapter Four

Elijah

I watch her through the glass, my gaze lingering on the curve of her waist and the way her dark hair falls in waves around her face.

She's behind the counter at Grounds For Joy, her movements graceful and fluid as she makes a customer’s drink.

I can't stop the smile that tugs at my lips, and the familiar rush of anticipation building in my chest.

Ezra, always the level-headed one, glances at me, his brow furrowed. “You're staring,” he says, his voice low and steady.

“I can't help it,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off her. “She's mesmerizing.”

“Is this all because of that stupid bet?” he asks, putting his phone down and turning toward me completely. “Because I’m not doing that to the poor girl.”

“Fuck no! I was going to go after her anyway. Winning will just be the icing on the cake.”

Ezra sighs, but I can see the hint of amusement in his eyes. He takes a look at Wren through the window, then looks back at me.

“You feel it too, don't you? There’s something about her,” I admit.

“We have work to do, Elijah,” he reminds me. “Phoenix Tech waits for no one, not even you.”

I tear my gaze away from her and look at my brother. He hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Okay, fine. There is something different about her. But we need to focus on the project right now. It’s too important to mess up.”

I grin, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms behind my head. “Who says we can’t do both? Work hard and play harder, right?”

Ezra rolls his eyes, but I can see the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He’s trying to hide his amusement; I know him too well.

“Work comes first,” he says firmly, turning back to his phone. “But... I won't lie, she’s been on my mind, too.”

“I knew it,” I crow, triumphant. “You’ve got the hots for her just like I do.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You're impossible, you know that?”

“I’m impossible to resist,” I correct him with a wink. “Just like our little smokin’ hot latte.”

“Be serious for a minute, would you?” He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “We have to handle this delicately. We can’t push her.”

“I have no intention of pushing anyone,” I reply, affronted. “But I’m all about giving a gentle nudge, a tantalizing hint of what could be.”

“Hey, did you get the feeling she’s scared of something?” Ezra asks, his tone thoughtful.

I pause, considering his words. “Maybe. There’s definitely something she’s holding back. I could see it in her eyes.”

“Old boyfriend, perhaps?” Ezra muses. “Or a family issue?”

I shrug. “Who knows? Whatever it is, we have to tread carefully. The last thing we want is to scare her off before we even get a chance to know her.”

“Agreed,” Ezra says, turning his attention back to his screen. “I’m calling Jacobson to get some information on her.”

As he dials, I can’t help but steal another glance at Wren. She’s laughing with a customer, her smile brightening the dim café. It’s infectious, and I feel my heart race.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Listen, I need a background check on someone. Her name is Wren... no, I don’t have a last name. Just Wren.”

I chuckle softly, imagining how that conversation must be going.

“Yeah, she works at Grounds For Joy. No, I’m not stalking her! Just... curious.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Okay, thanks.” Ezra hangs up, looking at me with a mix of excitement and concern. “He’ll get back to us soon.”

“Good. I want to know everything about her,” I say.

Ezra shakes his head, a smile creeping onto his face. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I think she’s worth the risk. She’s smart, gorgeous, and... there’s just something about her that draws me in. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but she’s unlike any other woman I’ve met."

“I feel it too,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. “I think part of it has to do with her not knowing who we are. I don’t remember the last time we weren’t recognized.”

“That’s a huge deal. So we’ll take things slow,” I decide. “Get to know her, let her see that we’re not the corporate playboys everyone thinks we are.”

“Come on. We will be back to pick her up later. We don’t want her to think we are stalking her, too.” I grin, knowing that my brother is as curious about Wren as I am.

I reluctantly follow him away from the coffee shop. The air is crisp, and the sun is just starting to peek out from behind the clouds. I take a deep breath, savoring the feeling of anticipation that’s building in my chest.

It’s six o’ clock, and I can’t stop pacing our penthouse waiting for Ezra to get his ass dressed. I grab a whiskey from our bar in the corner and walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city below is bustling like always, but tonight feels different.

“Calm down,” Ezra says, his voice cutting through the silence. “She’s just a girl.”

I scoff, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “She’s not just a girl, and you know it.”

He sighs, pulling on his suit jacket. “You’re right. But that doesn’t mean we have to lose our heads over her.”

“Speak for yourself. My faculties are at full capacity,” I mutter, taking a sip of my whiskey.

“Come on, let’s go,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Winston is driving us.”

I set my glass down and follow him out of the penthouse, the anticipation building with each step.

Winston, our driver, greets us as we slide into the sleek black Rolls Royce. The engine hums to life, and we pull away from the curb as the city lights blur past in a kaleidoscope of color.

As we approach Grounds For Joy, the familiar rush of excitement washes over me. I glance at Ezra, his expression inscrutable in the dim light of the car.

The door to the coffee shop swings open, and Wren steps out, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

She looks stunning, her black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her lips painted a deep shade of red.

She’s wearing a silver dress that clings to her curves, the fabric shimmering in the lamplight.

She’s a vision, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her.

“Holy fuck,” I murmur more to myself. Wren is the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

We step out of the car, our eyes never leaving her. She looks nervous, biting her lower lip as we approach her.

“You are stunning,” Ezra says, his voice thick with desire as he hands her the bouquet of lilies we picked up along the way. I nod in agreement, my heart pounding in my chest. “Absolutely,” I manage to say, my mouth suddenly dry.

Her blush deepens. “Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes flicking between us. She brings the flowers up to her nose and closes her eyes. “These are beautiful. You didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense. We wanted to,” I insist.

“So, where to tonight?”

“I thought we’d start with dinner,” Ezra says, gesturing to the car. “There's a great Italian place downtown that we love. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she says with a shy smile.

We escort her to the car, then I grab her hand as she slides into the back seat. Ezra walks around to the other side as I take a seat beside Wren. His hand brushes against her thigh, and I watch as a shiver runs through her as her eyes dart to his.

I lean forward, my eyes locked on hers. “We’re going to have a great time tonight,” I murmur, my voice low and husky. “Just relax and let us take care of you.”

Wren shudders as a hesitant smile crosses her face.

The ride to the restaurant is silent. It's not like an awkward silence, but it seems as if she’s in her head.

I want to be in her head. I want to know everything about her.

What makes her happy, what her hopes and dreams are.

What makes her tick, and how I can make her scream my name.

Jacobson hasn’t gotten back with us but it’s not surprising since we didn’t give him much to go on.

Cuore d’Italia is packed when we arrive, but the hostess recognizes us immediately. She leads us to a secluded table in the back, and we settle into our seats.

Wren is sandwiched between us as her body heat mingles with my own. I can feel the warmth of her, and it takes all my self-control not to run my hands over her soft curves.

Ezra takes her hand in his, his thumb stroking her knuckles. “What are you in the mood for, Wren?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

She swallows hard, her eyes darting between us. “I’m not sure,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why don't you order for me?”

“Are you sure?” I ask, my hand resting on her knee. “We want you to be comfortable.” She bites her lip and nods, her cheeks flushing as the server approaches.

I wave the menu away. “We’ll have the chef’s special and a bottle of your best red wine, please.”

“Right away, Mr. St. James,” the server says, hurrying off.

Wren’s eyes widen as she takes in the lavish surroundings, the crystal chandeliers sparkling overhead. “This place is insane,” she murmurs, her gaze lingering on the couples around us as she takes a deep breath. “I’ve never been anywhere so fancy.”

“It’s one of our favorite spots in the city. The owner is from Italy, so the food is authentic,” I mention.

“So, you’re food snobs.” She laughs, her eyes alight with amusement.

“When it comes to Italian, yes, we are. We spent a majority of our lives in Italy, and life is too short to waste on a poor bowl of pasta,” Ez chimes in, draping his arm around Wren.

“Italy has always been on my list of places I want to visit someday,” she says wistfully, looking down at her hands lying in her lap.

There’s something about Wren that seems broken and I want nothing more than to piece her back together. I look over her head to Ezra and he nods, realizing the same thing.

“Here is your wine.” The server places the glasses down then opens the bottle and precedes to pour a small sip into mine. I swirl the liquid in the glass before tasting the sweet, off-dry Merlot. I nod my approval to the server and she begins filling our glasses.

“To new beginnings,” I announce, holding up my glass.