Page 11 of Rogue’s Path (Sweet Chaos #1)

Dylan

Why did I set cannon blasts as my phone sounds?

My head explodes with every tinkling bell.

It hurts.

Make it stop.

Please make it stop. I shove my hand out from under my pillow and flail around on the bedside table for it.

Why did I drink so much? Never again. Who am I kidding? If Dahlia throws another one of these, I’m totally going to do it again.

Gotcha!

Ugh! Even thinking loud thoughts hurts. “Hello.” That sounded more like a croak than a greeting.

“How much fun did you have last night?”

He called! Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy actually called. “Too much.” I push the speaker button and sit up.

“Did you get into any trouble?”

Other than agreeing to go on a date with you and kissing a biker three times… “How would you define trouble?”

His deep, smooth chuckle says he doesn’t believe me. “How about you tell me about it at brunch, and we can define it together.”

Moving sounds like a miserable idea.

“Before you can say no—”

How did he know what I’m thinking?

“—I know a place with the best crepes in town.”

Yummy.

“And you can get to know me better.”

“You scare me.” Hungover me blurts out anything I think, it seems.

“I scare a lot of people. It’s part of my job.”

“Mercenary or third-world dictator?” No. No. No.

His laughter is smooth, even if it’s echoing in my head.

“Those are good guesses.”

“But not correct.”

“No.”

“If I have breakfast with you, will you tell me what you do?”

“It isn’t a secret.”

Then why won’t you tell me? “And that isn’t an answer.”

“I like you.” There’s a tinge of surprise in his voice.

“You don’t like many people, do you?” Why did I ask a question that I already know the answer to? Because men rarely admit to things like that.

“No. I don’t. Habit of the job.”

Hmmm. Maybe he’s a spy. Nah. A politician? Not slimy enough. Lawyer? Possibly. He’s smart and slick, both of which are essential to lie for a living.

“You’re trying to figure out what I do?”

Impressive. “Guilty as charged.”

“You’ll never know unless you have brunch with me.”

That’s not quite true. Being a mystery author has helped me learn a great many skills that come in handy. Cyberstalking…that word sends a shiver up my spine.

You’re safe. No one could find you at this hotel.

Didn’t you learn anything from last night? Not to mix liquor and stilettos together.

To live a little. There’s a whole world outside of your computer. “Where can I meet you?”

“I’ll send you the details.”

He didn’t push back. Nice. The address pops up. It’s only a mile from here. “I’ll see you in an hour.” Washing the smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer off of me has to happen first.

“See you then.” He clicks off.

I guess we’re doing this.

What to wear? I pull up the address again.

With this guy, it’s going to be fairly fancy. Do I have a dress?

Wait? What? The Hangover Hideaway.

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy has a sense of humor. I'd better start calling him Taylor before I blurt out his nickname. That would be bad.

Not as bad as running into the bad boy biker and kissing him again.

But there’s always a possibility.

My life turned into a soap opera in one night. How would I start writing it?

***

The sexy suit turned into a sweater and jeans, which do nothing to hide the powerful man that he is.

He stands up as I approach the table. “You made it.”

“Curiosity always wins out. Like, why is there a pole with hooks connected to our table? And why did you ask me out? How many people have you killed? Am I going to kiss you at the end of this?”

“Why don’t we start with the pole? Then you can tell me how you got that bruise on your face.”

My hand goes to my cheek. Why did I even bother trying to cover it? My application skills are limited to moderately not clumpy mascara on my lashes and decent lip gloss. After that, I’m just pretending to know things.

“This place has physicians’ assistants in the back who will prescribe you IV fluids to help get rid of your hangover.” He points to a door in the back corner.

“Really? That’s wild. Does it work?”

He nods.

“I’ll be right back. The two aspirins I took aren’t touching it.” The process is quicker than I expected. In just a few short minutes, I’m back at the table hooked to the pole, waiting for our food to arrive. “So, you’re a planner.”

“You could say that. Where did you get the bruise?”

Why even try to pretend last night didn’t happen? “In a bar fight.”

“And did the other guy walk away?”

I’m not sure. The biker looked ready to tear him from limb to limb before I lost the ability to see what was happening. “Probably not. It was a little chaotic in there.”

“But you had fun?”

Last night is going to provide me with an endless amount of material for my writing. But that wasn’t everything. “Yeah, I did. Time to pay up. What do you do?”

“Nothing illicit, like you seem to think.”

“If you tell me you’re an accountant or a banker, I’ll know you’re lying.”

“Not a banker. And I do way too much paperwork as it is, there’s no way I would spend my life at a desk staring at numbers.”

The waitress sets down two plates. One filled with crepes covered in lemon curd and the prettiest whipped cream I’ve seen in a while.

The other is piled high with fluffy pancakes.

I’m a simple girl when it comes to breakfast. You can’t beat pancakes and syrup.

None of that fancy maple syrup either. Give me all the high fructose and chemically goodness.

“So, you’re not a banker or an accountant.

You said you aren’t a mercenary or a dictator, both of which look like they would be easy for you.

You hate paperwork, but you do a lot of it.

You dress like a CEO. Clearly, money isn’t an issue for you.

So you aren’t just one of those guys that dress well to hook up with a woman but can’t make their bills. ”

Taylor leans forward. “I love how your mind works.”

“Oh. Sorry. I tend to talk too much.”

“No, keep going. I want to see if you can figure it out.”

Can I? I love a good mystery. “You keep your body in peak physical condition, but you’re eating dessert for brunch, so you’re not one of those health gurus or bodybuilders.

Owning a construction company would be a possibility…

but that doesn’t feel right. Why? Hmm… You’re smiling at me and completely focused on me, but your eyes never stop moving.

It’s got to be a habit. What jobs require complete situational awareness?

The flawless short haircut would confirm that.

Also, your posture…Does the military strap a sword to your spine for years to make it that straight? ”

Taylor chuckles.

“Hmm… You’re not currently military, but I bet you were in it at one time.

A common profession for elite ex-military is security.

There’s no way you’re a rent-a-cop security guard in a mall or something like that.

That leaves security for a big corporation or…

a spy.” I tip my head as all the details sift through my brain.

“Friends. You have friends. Spies don’t hang around in packs.

” That only leaves one choice. “You run the security company. No, you own a security company, but you still work in the field. Am I close?” If I write a book about him, that’s definitely going to be his profession.

He leans back in his chair and stares at me thoughtfully. “Did you look me up?”

Huh? “Sure, between singing karaoke, dancing on a couple of bar tops, getting into a bar fight, and waking up hungover, I found time to cyberstalk a man who only told me his first name. Could I figure out who you really are given enough time? Definitely. But in the last 20 hours? No.”

“Do you want a job?”

“I thought this was a date.”

“It is. And since we started dating before I hired you, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

WOAH. “You thought about all of that while I went on my tangent?”

“I thought about a lot of things while you were talking.”

Oh!

OH!

This isn’t going the way I planned. Planned? Now you’re lying to yourself. The only plan you had was to make sure he told you what he did and not get murdered. “I already have a job.”

Taylor leans forward—Don’t think of him as Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy, even if he’s scrumptious like that—steepling his hands together. “My company pays very well.”

“Interesting.”

“That’s a no,” he says.

“Do I seem like the type to want to be anywhere near where bullets might be flying around? Plus, my job pays extremely well.” Though it feels almost as safe as if bullets were involved right now. The stalker needs to get bored soon.

“You didn’t seem traumatized by the bar fight you were in last night.”

Technically, it was this morning. “I wasn’t.”

“Then you’d do just fine. Not that I put people without combat experience anywhere near where shots could be fired. Your detail orientated observation style would be an asset both in and outside of fieldwork.”

Never…literally never, has any other profession found my quirky nosiness to be an asset.

Writing wasn’t my first pick, but it fits me so well.

Most get irritated with me within five minutes.

“I can’t turn it off. This is always who I am.

I won’t just do it at work. It’ll be everywhere and everything.

Since we met, I’ve planned a dozen ways for you to kill someone and probably twice as many ways for you to save the day. ”

“So, you’re an author.” Taylor sure doesn’t sound like he’s asking.

“Yeah.”

“How long have you been writing?”

From the beginning of time sounds too silly.

“As long as I can remember in one way, shape, or form. At first, it was little stories in school.” Most of them involved death and dying, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Then, it was in a journal.” When my therapist said it would be good for me.

Then, after a million failed job attempts.

“Finally, I tried writing a book after a friend suggested it. She heard about this indie author movement. How authors didn’t have to wait for publishers to decide that their book, out of thousands of other wonderful books, fit in with their ideals. The gatekeepers were gone.”

“And you wrote a bestseller.”

I snort and laugh at the same time. “Not even close. My first book made enough to pay for me to edit the next book. But let's not talk about me. Tell me something about yourself. How did you get into security work?”

“My father. He started out in the military. Then started his own…security team.”

That’s not completely true. “There’s more to it than that.”

Taylor grins. “T&T Securities has always done more than protect rich people.”

“He was a mercenary. And you took over for him after you got out of the military.”

“Close. I wanted to be him, but there was no way he was going to be my boss.

When I got out, I started my own team. We were never interested in going back to the pits of third-world countries.

Our first real gig was protecting a women's shelter. Then we added on some corporate and protecting one family.”

So he stops corporate espionage. “Where did you go from there?”

“Nowhere. My company does exactly what it’s supposed to. It provides well-paying jobs for ex-military. The jobs are interesting enough to keep them engaged and safe enough that if they want to, they can have a life outside of work.”

‘They’ can have a life outside. “But you can’t.”

“I don’t want one.”

Not I didn’t want one. Any woman’s first impulse would be to ask why they’re here then.

“What—” My phone rings. I pull it out of my purse to see Cordelia’s name flash on the screen.

Is she alright? “Excuse me one second. I need to take this.” I start to get up and am reminded of the fact that I’m currently tethered to the table.

Oh well. It’s not like we’re discussing state secrets. “Hey Cordelia,” I whisper. “How is your head?”

“Throbbing. I haven’t been this drunk since the girls and I went on a road trip.”

That I can believe.

“Do you wanna meet up? There’s a little coffee shop near where I live. It’ll change your world.”

Do I? Cordelia seemed incredibly nice. And it isn’t like I’m overflowing with friends. “Sure. When were you thinking?”

“How about two hours?”

I glance over at Taylor. For a first date, this went well, and I could see us chatting for hours, but I also can’t see us being much more than friends. “Send me the address. I’ll message you if I need more time.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” She clicks off.

“Sorry about that.” I put my phone back in my purse. “One of my friends from last night wants to get together.” I cut a piece of pancake. “So you were telling me about your employees.”

“They’re like family—”

I can’t hold back a snort. “You know that’s code for you’re exploiting them.”

His smile never wavers. “It’s different when the men in question have saved my life several times. Then you actually mean it.”

“How many times have you almost died?” That was an intrusive question.

“More than I care to count…”

***

Taylor holds the door for me as we step out of the restaurant.

“Thank you for helping to cure my hangover.. I had a nice afternoon.”

“It was my pleasure.” He steps in front of me, close enough that I am aware of his presence without getting in my space like the bad boy biker last night. “I want to see you again. But I have to go out of town for two weeks on business. Will you be here in Urbium when I get back?”

Who knows? “My plans are kind of fluid right now.”

“Well then, I’ll reach out and fly to wherever you are and we’ll have dinner.”

It’s that simple for him, yet he doesn’t see a future for himself. Taylor is a puzzle I want to solve. “That sounds good.” We’re going to walk away, and he doesn’t even know my name. “Can I ask you something before we go?”

“Of course.”

“How do you ask a woman whose name you don’t know on two dates?”

“I know your name.”

What?

“Dylan Oliva is a beautiful name.”

My heart starts beating out of my chest. Could he be my stalker?

Wait, this guy runs a security firm. How did Maddox and Maverick know exactly where we were?

And why did those bikers immediately step up to make sure we didn’t fall while dancing?

Bear did the same at the honky-tonk. At every bar we went to, there were buff men just hanging around.

And not a single biker dropped to the floor when Vex arrived.

“You were there last night working.” How did I miss that?

“Sure was.”

Those bikers weren’t quite the outlaws I thought.

The possibilities…Those thoughts need to wait for later. There’s just enough time for me to hop in a cab and make it in time to meet Cordelia.

How bold do I want to be? Earlier, I asked if I would kiss him, and he didn’t seem opposed.

It hasn’t been twenty-four hours, and I’m considering kissing another man.

But this isn’t a joke. He isn’t ready to kiss me and mean it.

I lean up and kiss his smooth cheek. Taylor likes a close shave.

“Thank you. I’ll look forward to hearing from you. ”