Page 8 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

Tight, Black Pants

I arrive solo at the SCS offices two weeks after the bid walk.

In the last two weeks, I flew to San Diego to get in some more workouts with my new teammates and find a place to live. I still haven’t settled on anything, so I’ll have to go back again sooner rather than later.

The caffeine queen lady boss babe from Starbucks and the subsequent bid walk has only snaked her way into my thoughts hourly over the last week—down from half-hourly the first week, something I’m counting as a win.

I’m not sure why I can’t get her out of my head.

There was something electric in the air when I think back to our connection. Maybe it was the way she was a little flustered when I looked at her, or maybe it was in the way she didn’t seem to know who the hell I was. I liked that about her.

I was out of place in a suit in the middle of Starbucks. I’m fairly well-known around these parts, but I look different in a suit with my hair neatly styled than I do in a jersey and pads with eye black and helmet hair. Admittedly, it’s harder to recognize me when I’m not in my element .

I was only in San Diego a few days, and I’ve spent the rest of my time at my father’s Chicago office. My future office.

I’ve gone to Starbucks each morning on the off-chance I might run into her again, but I haven’t.

I have enough resources to procure her number, but I have this sneaking suspicion our paths will cross again—like today, for example. Besides, it would feel strange to call her out of the blue. I’ve thought about what I’d say if I did it, and every time, I just sound like a creep.

No, I need to let things happen the natural way.

I told my father I could handle this on my own. I’m not entirely sure that’s true, but I wanted the chance to see her again without my dad being a cockblock.

I found out after the fact that the man Kennedy was with was her father. From the sounds of things, he and my father are business rivals, but Thomas Bradley has met few people who haven’t eventually become his rival, and none that he hasn’t won against. It’s quite the record, really.

I’m not terribly surprised to see the woman standing in the lobby chatting up the receptionist as I pull open the door, but I am glad to see she’s here.

I sort of assumed SCS would invite all the developers back to let everyone else down gently since obviously my company submitted the best proposal.

I say that with confidence, by the way—not arrogance.

She’s wearing black pants with a green shirt that accentuates the blonde of her hair, which is hanging in loose waves just past her shoulders.

Her back is to me, but it’s unmistakably her, and my eyes fall to her ass.

It’s cupped perfectly in those tight, black pants, and I salivate as I try not to openly stare.

Tight, black pants just do it for me.

And on her?

Damn.

That’s one hell of a nice ass.

One I could sink my teeth into .

One I could spend all night caressing just before I bend her over and slide inside.

Fuck.

Great. Now I need to attend this meeting with a fucking erection caused by the woman who will be sitting beside me. I draw in a breath.

She glances toward the door when she sees the glint of the light reflecting off the glass as I open it. Her eyes meet mine, and she glares.

She glares at me. What the fuck did I do to earn her ire? We had a nice little flirt, and now this?

And furthermore, while I’m not surprised she’s here, I am surprised when the receptionist welcomes just the two of us back to Simon’s office. Kennedy follows her, and I follow Kennedy. We’re both silent on the walk back, though I’m tempted to say something .

“Welcome, Ms. Van Buren, Mr. Bradley,” Simon says, and he shakes each of our hands across the desk.

He nods at the chairs, and we both take a seat.

“Both of your bids were incredibly impressive, and you each had a unique take on how to make our vision come to life,” he begins.

He glances up at both of us. “As you can both see, you’re the only two we’ve invited back, and there’s a reason why.

” He pauses dramatically, and I’m tempted to inject some humor into the moment. I refrain.

Barely.

“Because the scope of the project is so large and we appreciated pieces from each of your bids, we’ve decided to split the project,” he says.

My stomach twists as my heart drops somewhere down there.

This was my project.

My father expected me to win the bid. Granted, he didn’t have me draft the bid, but he did have me handle the walk, and he did have me oversee and approve the bid before we sent it to SCS.

He’s going to hand me my ass, and it’s likely well deserved .

I’m about to interrupt to ask whether we can negotiate this so we can get the full scope of the project when Simon continues.

“Van Buren will cover all residentials, and Bradley will oversee the commercial. We feel this is the best use of our resources and will also yield the timeliest method to break ground. There will, of course, be challenges to this, and we will need you to work together on all stages of the project together from master planning to infrastructure to branding and marketing.”

Wait a minute.

We will need you to work together.

The gorgeous business rival glaring at me is about to become my business partner. Well, sort of. I have no clue if she’s going to oversee the project on her end, but I’ll sure as fuck be overseeing it on mine.

Except, you know, I have that whole football thing where I’ll have to head to San Diego in a few months for training camp. Plus workouts in April, OTAs in May, and mandatory minicamp in June.

But when I’m not in San Diego, you can bet your ass I’ll be right here.

Right beside the caffeine queen.

She opens her mouth to say something—likely an objection to this plan—but I slide in first. “What a fantastic opportunity, Mr. Sterling. Thank you for awarding Bradley with even a portion of this incredible project.”

She glances at me, and the side-eye is fierce as our eyes connect. She obviously thinks I’m an ass-kisser, which is fine since it’s her ass I’ll be kissing in the more literal sense as soon as fucking possible. I don’t know what it is, but this fierce need to get her alone washes over me.

“Ms. Van Buren, I’d love to set up a time to start discussing the master plans,” I say, turning to her. “Are you free after we wrap up here?” Say…my place? Naked?

Okay, Bradley, slow your roll .

She obviously isn’t going to reject my request in front of the client, and furthermore, she’s not going to make excuses by bringing up other clients. She purses her lips, and the little lines at the corners tell me she’s not happy I’m cornering her.

“Yes, that would work,” she grits out.

There’s something so cute about the way she’s angry with me, and as much fun as it is to push her buttons, I can’t wait to get to the bottom of why she’s suddenly so angry.