Sophie Oak - Siren in Bloom

Janine was happy. Without him. Three years of marriage to him had been enough to throw her into the arms of another man.

“Wolf is in town,” Leo said.

There was a long pause. “I’ll be there early.”

The phone clicked, and he looked at the clock. Hours. She wouldn’t be early enough.

Shelley hopped onto the Blue Line going toward Mockingbird Station, her body slightly tired after the long, emotional day. It was crowded, the press of bodies reminding her that it was rush hour, but still a very nice man offered her his seat. She smiled gratefully and took it, placing her laptop bag at her feet and her purse in her lap. She settled in by the window as the train took off.

Why had she listened to the denizens of Deer Run? Everyone in her tiny hometown had been against her coming to Dallas. They had sworn she’d be raped and killed the minute she entered Dallas County. Apparently that was what happened to small-town women who dared to go to the big city. Well, that or she would become a drug-addicted prostitute.

What they didn’t say was that she’d gotten herself into trouble in a town like Deer Run, so how the hell would she stay out of it in Dallas?

She loved the city, and she’d almost never had to stand on the train. Dallas was filled with gentlemen. And almost no one knew about her past as the wife of the drug dealer and blackmailer. It had made a small splash in the press when Bryce’s blackmailing activities had come to light, but it had quickly been replaced when the next scandal came along.

But sometimes she wondered if it would always follow her around, like a stain that wouldn’t go away no matter how much she washed it.

She sighed and stared out the window. The train stopped at the next station, and there was a general jostling as people got on and got off. A large man stepped in and looked around for a seat. He waited as the women on the train moved into the open seats.

She was going home to her small townhouse where she would shower and maybe have a fortifying glass of wine before fixing herself up and heading to The Club. Not on a tour. Not as a designer getting ideas about a space.

As a sub. Wolf’s sub.

She smiled as the door closed, and the train jolted forward. Well, she’d been worried that maybe she would never be able to look at another man, but Wolf Meyer had put that thought firmly out of her mind.

Every hormone in her body had lit up and screamed like a teen at a pop concert. He was unbelievably masculine. Wholly beautiful. And kind.

And Leo’s brother.

Yeah, that was bugging her.

“Hi.”

She glanced up, pulled out of her thoughts by a masculine voice. She looked up and smiled back. The man was big, almost too big for the seat he was squeezed into. He sat directly in front of her, and a well-dressed woman settled into the seat next to her, a gorgeous designer bag in her lap.

The bag caught Shelley’s eye. She loved beautiful things. It was why she’d become a designer. She couldn’t sew for crap so she’d put her eye for fashion into making living spaces lovely and comfortable, but she still loved clothes and bags and shoes. It took all she had not to drool over that bag. Quilted and black, with gold braided satchel-like handles, the bag stood out on the dreary train. It was Versace. Handmade. She’d seen it at the Versace store the week before when she’d walked through NorthPark Mall looking for a little inspiration. She’d taken pictures of the straps thinking she could use it as a takeoff place for decorating the bar that served as the entryway to The Club.

That was one amazing-looking bag. Her own paled in comparison. And the laptop bag at the woman’s side was a work of art, too.

“Well, I can see I have nothing on a pretty purse.” There was a wealth of masculine deprecation in the words.

She looked up into laughing gray eyes. Damn. She’d been terribly rude. “Sorry. It’s a stunning bag.”

“Thanks,” the woman beside her said, patting the $2500 bag. Shelley had checked the price tag and remembered that she didn’t have her husband’s blood money to rely on anymore. Not that he’d shared it. She’d been forced to work in a bar just to pay her mother’s medical bills.

“I saw it just a couple of days ago. I couldn’t help but admire it,” Shelley said, trying not to think about a life that hadn’t been real in the first place.

The cool blonde nodded and held the bag to her chest. “Normally I wouldn’t carry it on the train. My ride got stuck at the firm, and I had a long day in court. I wasn’t willing to wait, but now I’m wondering. I feel like I need an armed escort.”

The handsome man in front of them saluted with a little flair. “I’ll be happy to apply for the job, ma’am. Steve Holder. Non-active duty Navy SEAL.”

The woman next to Shelley blushed and muttered something about feeling so much safer.

“Hi. I’m Shelley McNamara. I seem to be surrounded by ex-SEALs these days,” Shelley said, shaking her head as a young man in a hoodie took the seat across from Designer Bag Lady. He kept his head down, bobbing to music only he could hear.

Holder laughed a bit. He had a jagged scar that ran down his cheek, but his smile seemed genuine. Shelley could definitely buy that he was ex-military. He looked like he’d kept up the workout regime. His shoulders were massive, his neck corded with muscle. “There’s no such thing as an ex-SEAL, ma’am. A SEAL’s a SEAL. We old guys just don’t get to play anymore. But it’s funny you should say that. I can’t seem to find any. I was in town talking to some clients and tried to look up an old teammate of mine. He works at a club now as a therapist.”

Seriously? No. She sighed and asked the question anyway. “Leo Meyer?”

Holder pointed at her, his eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah. Wow. You know Leo?”

Leo seemed to be everywhere today. “We work for the same man.”

“Julian Lodge.” Holder nodded his head. “Yeah, I read up on him when I found out Leo was working for him. He’s an interesting man. He’s got quite the reputation, though I wonder how much is hype and how much is true.”

Designer Bag Lady looked up, her perfectly painted mouth dropping open. “You work for Julian Lodge? The infamous Julian Lodge? Tell me something—is that man as hot in person as he is in pictures?”

Shelley smiled and nodded. Her boss was a lovely man. “I’m redecorating his building. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but he’s also happily married.” And to more than one person . She didn’t say that out loud. Julian jealously guarded his privacy. “And his wife is pregnant.”

That was one he hadn’t been able to hide. Pictures of Dani had made the society pages just the week before.

“Damn it. All the hot ones are taken.” She grinned. “It doesn’t hurt that he’s also a billionaire.”

Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up, leaving Shelley alone, talking to Holder.

“So how is Leo doing?” Holder asked, his big, callused hands on his knees. He leaned forward, curiosity on his face.

How was Leo? He was gorgeous and remote and impossible to forget. “He’s fine. He’s made a good life for himself. He was my brother’s therapist. I can safely say the man is a miracle worker.”

She didn’t mention that the club he worked at was an infamously private BDSM club. She glanced out the window as the train stopped again. Two stops left, and then she would get out and walk the block and a half to her place and try to convince herself she wasn’t making a horrible mistake. She didn’t have long until Wolf would knock on her door.

Why hadn’t he let her come back on her own?

Holder continued on. “I can believe it. He was the go-to guy when you needed a good talk. He would listen to everyone. Man, I remember Leo. He was always a flirt. He was a great guy, but he was all about the chase, you know what I mean? I was surprised when I found out he got married.”