Page 5 of Sassy Surrogate
I turn and start walking away quickly in the hopes of avoiding a confrontation with him. But I should have known he wouldn’t make it that easy. Who knew a drunk old man could move that fast?
Before I’ve made it past the hulking building I’ve just exited, he’s there. He gets right up in my face, clamping an unforgiving hand around the top of my arm.
“Just where do you think you’re running off to, Missy?” The stench of stale liquor on his breath has my head spinning. “Trying to avoid your old dad?”
“Actually, yes. I absolutely am. That’s exactly what I’m doing since I don’t want to talk to you right now. In fact, I don’t ever want to talk to you. Not now, not ever.”
Without warning, he backhands me across my mouth. I can feel my lips mash up against my teeth with the impact, and I taste the metallic tang of blood where my lip has obvious split open.
“Just who do you think you’re talking to, you disrespectful little bitch?”
I rock back on my feet but am unable to step away from him since he still has my arm in a death grip. He shoves his face right up in mine, and I brace for the tirade that never comes. One moment you couldn’t wedge a piece of paper between his nose and mine, the next he’s yanked away.
I stagger forward, unprepared for it, as he has yet to let go of me. I feel my eyes go wide at the sight of my best friend’s boss with his huge hand wrapped around the back of my father’s scrawny chicken neck, a thunderous expression on his face.
The old man’s arms pinwheel as he’s dragged backwards, equally unprepared.
Mr Bailey gets in his face just as my asshole dad had done to me only seconds ago. “If you want to live to see another day, I’m going to suggest you get yourself gone before I give in to the overwhelming urge to finish the job someone else clearly started.”
My father is not a big man, but I see him puff out his chest in bravado, or stupidity – probably the latter. “Who the fuck are you?” Yanking against the hold on his neck, he continues, “Let me go, asshole. You got no business here.”
“I’m making it my business. Now, you have two choices. When I let go, you can either beat it, or I beat you. Those are youronlychoices.”
My father gets an eyeful of the furious hunk, and something must penetrate the fog in his brain. “Yeah, all right. Just let me go.”
My rescuer flings Dad away from him bodily, as if he’s contaminated, moving to stand protectively between the two of us.
Dad peers around him and snarls, “This isn’t over, girly.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man growl, but the man protecting me – honest to God?growls like a feral beast, and my father backpedals doubletime before turning tail and running away like the spineless lowlife he is. From my vantage point behind my rescuer, I watch as he scurries out of sight. Then this gorgeous man turns to me, glides a gentle hand down the side of my face in a fleeting touch, and asks, “Are you okay, Miss Brand? That’s quite a blow you took.”
I start to smile but grimace instead as my lip smarts. “I’ll be fine, thanks. Thank you for your help. I really appreciate it, but I need to get going.”
His gaze takes me in as I stand on the sidewalk, missing nothing in his thorough appraisal. “Where are you headed?”
“Home,” I blurt as shock sets in, and I begin to shake.
I see him gesture to someone behind me, and suddenly a giant in a bespoke suit joins us.
“Kieran, change of plans. Before we head for home, we need to see Miss Brand safely back to her own.”
“Yes, sir.” A soft Irish accent flows over me, soothing ragged edges. And then he gifts me with a gentle smile. “This way, Miss.” He gestures to somewhere behind Mr Bailey.
My gaze bounces from one man to the other. I’m a little out of my depth here. It’s not every day your best friend’s mouth-watering boss comes to your rescue and then offers to personally escort you home.
Out of nowhere, all the inappropriate thoughts I’ve had about this man pop into my head, and I can literally feel my face heat with embarrassment. I would be mortified if he could hear those thoughts. I don’t even want to think about the X-rated dreams at this point. Dropping my gaze, I step around him and follow Kieran over to a beautiful, midnight blue Mercedes Benz parked at the curb.
The man in question stands tall, holding the back passenger door open for me. As I reach him, his gaze snags mine, and he gives me another smile. He has the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. Yet I see sadness in their depths. The kind that personal loss puts in your eyes – loss of loved ones or the death of a dream. The kind I used to see in my mom’s eyes for a long time after she left my father, when she thought no one was paying attention.
3
Heath
Ifollow Ms Brand’s progress as she steps around me and follows Kieran over to the Mercedes. Despite the current cocktail of unpleasant emotions churning in my gut right now, I find myself unable to resist watching the sway of her luscious ass as she walks away from me.
The formfitting skirt she’s wearing lovingly hugs the generous globes, showcasing them to perfection. I may be all kinds of pissed off, but it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a beautiful woman when I see one. She’s exquisite, with her full, pouty mouth and large, luminescent, smoke-grey eyes, A tiny bundle of generous curves and sex appeal like a pin-up girl from the 1950s.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I follow her into the vehicle. Settling back against the seat, I dig my cell phone out to contact Rebecca. She’s going to have my balls for bailing. Mentally shrugging, I wait for the call to connect.
