Landon (In Safe Hands Book 1) Read online

  Landon

  In Safe Hands: Book One

  By

  S.M. Shade

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Ally Hastings at Starcrossed Covers.

  Chapter One

  Zoe

  The bus is late, but with the stellar day I’m having, I’m not surprised. By the time I meet Frannie at our favorite downtown café I’m sweating like a whore in church. It must be nearly one hundred degrees outside, and if it were any more humid, I’d be drinking the air instead of breathing it.

  “Sorry, Fran, bus was moving at the speed of sloth. Have you been waiting long?”

  “Zoe Page, you need to get your car fixed,” Frannie replies, pushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. Frannie has been my best friend since we met four years ago. It was my first day of work at a crappy fast food restaurant, and Frannie was my trainer.

  Her first words to me were, “Welcome to hell. Flip those burgers.”

  “Actually, I need a job,” I sigh, unfolding today’s newspaper.

  “Oh, girl, what happened? That asshole still harassing you?”

  “He won’t be harassing anyone for a while. I’m pretty sure his balls ended up lodged in his throat, courtesy of my foot.”

  Fran chokes on her drink. “You kicked him?”

  “He shoved me into a room and tried to stick his hand down my pants.”

  “Did you tell your boss?”

  “My boss is his mother,” I reply dryly.

  “Damn. So, you can’t go back.”

  “My days of cleaning at the Stay-a Nite Hotel are over. I’ll just have to deal with the disappointment.” My eyes scan the help wanted page of the paper. “I need a new job fast. I’ve just saved enough to fix my car, but I need a steady paycheck first.”

  Frannie grins at me. “Let’s go out tonight. My treat. We’ll hit the club, drink and dance until we don’t give a shit about anything.”

  “I don’t know. I really need to figure out what I’m going to do.”

  “It’s Saturday. You can’t job hunt until Monday. You need to have some fun.” Frannie blinks her bright blue eyes at me. She’s gorgeous and men always drool all over her. In addition to beautiful red hair and stunning eyes, she’s got a figure that would make a Victoria’s Secret model jealous. Not that I’m jealous…much. I’m no great beauty, but I don’t exactly scare children on the street.

  “All right, but just a couple of drinks.”

  “Whatever you say, girl. I’m getting trashed and finding me a man to climb.” Our waitress laughs as she places our usual order in front of us and retreats.

  “Hey, look at this. What do you think?” I point to an ad in the paper. Housekeeper needed. Must be willing to work evenings and nights. Serious inquiries only. A phone number and address are listed below.

  “Nights?” Frannie asks, looking dubious.

  “Maybe it’s cleaning offices after hours or something. I can’t be picky. Besides, nights work for me. My classes end at two.” I dig a pen out of my purse and circle the ad with a sigh. I can’t believe I’m job hunting again.

  * * * *

  “Ethan!” I call, trying to get through the front door of our apartment while balancing three grocery bags.

  “Damn, Zo, you should’ve let me go with you,” my brother Ethan scolds, taking two of the bags.

  “I just decided on the way home we need nachos for dinner.”

  Ethan grins at me and starts putting away the groceries. He’s such a good kid and sure doesn’t deserve the shitty hand he’s been dealt. He moved in with me a little over a year ago when our parents kicked him out.

  At only fifteen years old, I couldn’t let him go into foster care. I told him we’d work it out, find a way to make it. Thanks to the help of a local charity for homeless gay youth, we were able to put a deposit on this two bedroom apartment without blowing all my student loan money. I only allow him to work in the summer when it won’t affect his schoolwork. He’s set to become valedictorian if he keeps on the way he’s going.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I ask.

  “Is it okay if Rob and Zach hang out? The new DLC is out for Call of Duty.”

  “No idea what that means, but sure.” Rob and Zach are his two best friends. “I’m going out with Frannie, so try not to burn the house down.”

  Most people would be hesitant to leave a bunch of sixteen year old boys on their own, but as a self-professed group of geeks, these boys are as trustworthy as they come. They’ll spend the night playing video games, guzzling Mountain Dew and watching those horrible Japanese cartoons.

  His friends show up right after dinner as I’m preparing for a night at the club. I rarely go out like this, bars and clubs just aren’t my scene. I study my closet with a frown and finally decide on tight jeans and a clingy red blouse. I have no desire to spend the evening stuffed into a dress and uncomfortable heels.

  “Jeans,” Frannie moans, barging into my room.

  “Save it. I want to be comfortable, not attract assholes.”

  “Babe, you’ll do that no matter what you wear. Come on, the cab’s waiting.”

  “Just a couple of drinks,” I remind her.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Fran squeals with excitement when the cab drops us at Chaos, one of the most popular Indianapolis nightclubs. Fran’s painted on mini skirt and low cut blouse get us past the line and into the club. “What do you want to drink?” Fran shouts over the music and chatter.

  “Kamikaze.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, girl!” She’s right. I’ve had a terrible day and I just want to forget about it.

  We grab a table upstairs, overlooking the dance floor, where the music isn’t as loud, and dive into our drinks. “I’m going to fuck…him,” Fran says, pointing out a tall, dark headed pretty boy.

  “Pace yourself,” I laugh. “There are plenty to choose from.”

  “So choose one.”

  “You know I don’t do one night stands.”

  “You don’t do anyone.”

  Sighing, I down my drink and move on to the next. “I have enough to worry about without any bullshit man drama.”

  “I love this song!” Frannie squeals, grabbing my hand. “Let’s dance.”

  Once I’m on the crowded dance floor, the drinks and music lighten my mood. Eyes closed, I let the music flow through me and join the throng of writhing, sweaty bodies. I can shake my ass with the best of them and there’s no shortage of men to dance with. Frannie laughs and flashes me a brilliant smile when she spots me dancing between two men.

  The guy facing me is a cutie. Blond hair, blue eyes and a muscular body. He rests his hands on my hips, grinning at me when the song ends and says, “Thanks for the dance, beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome.” I swat at the guy who seems to think dancing behind me gives him the right to put his hand on my ass.

  Blond Guy pulls me away and glares at him until he takes off, grumbling. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “I shouldn’t. I’m seeing someone,” I lie. “But thanks.”

  “Anyt
ime, sweetheart.” He heads off to sweet talk his next prospect while I head to the bar for another drink.

  I’m really happy Frannie convinced me to come out tonight. It’s the most fun I’ve had in months. I’m only twenty-three, but some days I feel forty. With so many responsibilities, I just don’t have the luxury of partying and dating like a normal young woman. There’s a kid depending on me to feed him and keep a roof over his head.

  The young bartender nods at me as I order another Kamikaze and an ice water, hoping to fend off a morning hangover.

  “Put it on my tab.” A shiver runs through me at the deep voice coming from behind me, and I turn to gaze into the most amazing eyes. I stare for a moment, trying to decide whether they’re blue or green before I remember what he said.

  “Thank you, but I’ll get it,” I tell him, causing the corner of his mouth to tuck in with disapproval.

  “I want to buy you a drink.” His stubborn entitled attitude annoys me.

  “And I want to be ten pounds lighter and a million dollars richer. I don’t get what I want, neither do you.” I’m being a bitch, but I’m not in the mood to deal with another pushy male who can’t take no for an answer.

  After handing my money to the bartender, I make my way back to our table where Frannie is cuddled up with a dark headed stranger. She always goes for the tall, dark and handsome type. “Zoe, this is Jeremy. We met last week when he delivered a package to me.” The package she’s hoping to receive tonight is clear on her face, and I have to laugh at how outrageous she can be. It’s why I love her. We’re complete opposites.

  “Nice to meet you,” I reply.

  “He’s here with a friend. You should meet him.” Here we go again. Frannie is determined to find me a boyfriend.

  “Here he comes,” Jeremy says, waving to someone behind my back. “Landon, this is Frannie and her friend…uh.” He struggles to remember my name.

  “Zoe,” I say reluctantly, reaching to shake his hand as he takes a seat beside me. Well, hell. It’s the ocean eyed guy who tried to buy me a drink.

  “Zoe.” I’ve never been crazy about my name, but coming from his lips it sounds sexy. “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you. I got it for my birthday.”

  A dimple appears in his cheek when he smiles. He really is attractive, with dark hair that curls over his ears and thick shapely lips any woman would love to kiss. “Can I buy you that drink now?”

  I shake my glass at him. “Still working on this one, thanks. Then I should be going.”

  “Dance with me.”

  “Is that an order?” I snort. This guy really needs to work on his social skills.

  Frannie pulls Jeremy to his feet and grins at me. “Come on, Zo. One dance before you go. It’s still early.”

  Landon smirks, and I want to kick him, but I agree to one dance, and we all head back to the dance floor. The man can move, I’ll say that for him. He grins at me and places his hands on my hips, guiding me to the beat. “So, do you hate men in general, or did I do something to offend you?”

  “I’m just not interested in dating right now.”

  Damn, though, the way he moves his body against mine makes me want to rethink that decision. The song switches to a slow sensual beat and he spins me around, pulling me back against his body. His chest and abdomen are rock hard, and I love the feel of them pressed to my back. They aren’t the only thing that’s hard. He’s as turned on as I am. His scent fills my senses, fresh and clean like the forest after a storm, as his soft lips brush up my neck to my ear.

  “Good, I’m not interested in dating either.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page,” I breathe, trying to remember why I don’t want this man. His hand travels up my ribs while his other arm keeps me pinned to his chest. The second I turn my head to look at him, his lips land on mine. Smooth and full, they push every rational thought from my head, and his tongue wastes no time finding its way into my mouth, licking and tasting. He completely devastates me with just one kiss, and the smug grin on his lips when we break apart says he knows exactly how he affected me.

  My heart thrums as his lips travel back to my ear to proclaim, “I’m interested in getting you back to my place and planting my face between those luscious tits before I bend you over my bed.”

  My breath flees my body and I freeze, sure I must’ve heard him wrong. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Ms. Difficult. I’ll make it good. Fuck you like you need. You’ll love it. I promise.”

  Taking a step away, I turn to gape at him. “Does that actually work for you? Telling women you just met you want to fuck them?”

  A smirk twists his lips, and I want to smack the smug look off his face. “Pretty much.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket with an unfamiliar number, and I look up to see Frannie waving Jeremy’s phone. Nodding, I wave to her and she grins, shaking her ass. We developed this little system since Frannie is no stranger to one night stands. If she leaves with someone we don’t know, she calls my phone from his, so I’ll have his number. If she ends up chained in a basement, the cops will know where to look.

  I glare up at Landon. “My friend is leaving and so am I. Good luck finding a woman willing to overlook your crude mouth and lack of social skills.”

  “Babe, my mouth can be crude in all the right places.”

  “Charming,” I murmur, shaking my head as I push through the crowd and into the cool night. It only takes a moment to get a taxi and I settle back against the seat, closing my eyes. God, what a jerk. A rude conceited asshole. Who talks like that to a woman they just met? Bend me over the bed and fuck me like I need.

  His words are still echoing through my head when I curl up in bed, though they have a different effect on me in the dark. That body. Those lips. I doze off and dream of the crude things his mouth could do.

  * * * *

  “Zoe, wake up.” Ethan’s grinning face is blurry when I drag my eyes open. “How much did you drink?” he asks, amused.

  “More than I should have.” My head thumps in tandem with my heart.

  “You look like shit. I’m going to Zach’s to swim, okay? I might stay the night.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Yes, mother,” he groans good naturedly.

  “There’s a ten on the dresser. Take it in case you want to grab a burger later.”

  “Thanks.” He hops off the bed.

  “And take your phone!” I call to his retreating back.

  “Got it.”

  I’m tempted to go back to sleep, but it’s nearly noon and I need to do laundry today. After a hot shower, a couple of ibuprofen and a ton of ice water, I feel almost normal. The apartment seems too quiet since the boys left, so I turn on the T.V. for company while I gather the dirty laundry.

  Whew, Ethan’s clothes reek. The boy takes two showers a day and I still have to Febreze his room. Teen boys produce a stench that would put any skunk to shame. After stripping the beds, I drag the three filled laundry baskets to the living room. I’d give anything to have a washer and dryer, but our apartment doesn’t have hook-ups. If my car was running, I’d take them to the laundromat, but today I’m stuck with the crappy little laundry room provided by management. If I can snag a washer.

  Luckily, all four washers are free. I plunk in a boatload of quarters and set the timer on my phone so I know when to come back. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten.

  After a nutritious lunch of gourmet toaster waffles, I set to cleaning the house. By evening, the laundry is done, the apartment’s clean and I have no idea what to do with myself. Maybe Frannie’s right. I do need a boyfriend, or at the very least, a fuck buddy.

  Visions of Landon looming over me, naked and sweaty, invade my thoughts. The feel of his lips, how his tongue moved over mine. He may be a rude Neanderthal, but I’ll bet he’s a monster in bed. He just looks the type.

  I settle for a bag of popcorn and a new book on my Kindle. Tomorrow, I have to find a ne
w job.

  I’m up early the next morning to begin the grueling task of job hunting without a diploma. It doesn’t seem to matter to employers that I was homeschooled my entire childhood. As far as they’re concerned, GED equals dropout. Of the three help wanted listings I circled, one was only part time, one was cleaning up a strip club—ew—and the last went to an automated voice mail message saying they’d be accepting applications after four this afternoon and to call back then.

  The latter is for the evenings and nights job, and since there’s an address listed, I decide to apply in person instead of calling back. I don’t want someone to beat me to it. After throwing on some slacks and a blouse, I grab a cab and I’m on my way.

  I expect to pull up outside a business, but the cab stops in front of a sprawling house. Not big enough to be called a mansion, but enough to announce to the world, “I’m rich.” They must be looking for domestic help. The cab driver shakes his head at the tip I give him, grumbling as he drives away, probably assuming I live here and can afford more. Yeah, right. I’m applying to clean their toilets.

  Boards creak under my feet when I climb the steps to the wraparound porch. The place could use some upkeep. Maybe it’s been empty for a while. “Come in,” a deep voice calls when I knock. “Close the door behind you.”

  It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimmer environment, and when they do, I blink, sure I must be hallucinating. “I’m impressed, Ms. Difficult. I’ve had women regret turning me down and want a second chance, but never had one show up at my house.”

  Fuck a duck. Landon smirks at me while I gape at him. How unlucky can I be? When I finally find my brain, I turn and head back toward the door. “This was a mistake.”

  His hand clamps onto my shoulder. “Wait, Zoe…”

  “I came to apply for the job, not to feed your ego. I didn’t realize you live here.”

  Comprehension dawns on his face and he asks, “The cleaning position?”

  “Yes, only the phone number and address were listed, not your name.”