Sophie Oak - Siren in Bloom

Her heart nearly stopped. She turned back to Holder, praying she wasn’t flushing. Leo had been married? He’d never once mentioned he’d been married. And she’d never noticed him flirting with other women. He’d always been so focused on her when he’d been around her. “I never thought of him as a flirt.”

Holder snorted a little. “God, he was the biggest flirt on the team. We called him Casanova. And he preferred his women to be unavailable. I don’t think he ever actually cheated with any of them, but he liked to play around when there wasn’t any possibility of commitment.”

She felt her whole body go hot with embarrassment. She was torturing herself over a man who hadn’t bothered to mention that he was divorced. She’d told him almost everything. She’d spent hours on the phone with him. Ostensibly they had been talking about Trev and how to handle him and how to deal with his drug and alcohol problems, but she’d found herself telling the handsome counselor everything about her life.

And he hadn’t really talked about his life. Maybe because she wasn’t really important.

“And he was great at riding in and saving women,” Holder continued. “He was a white knight, if you know what I mean. I remember this town we were liberating from the Taliban. There were bombs going off everywhere. We were taking crazy fire and Leo’s running through the flames of a house carrying a woman and her baby. I really admired the hell out of him.”

She’d been in trouble, and Leo had tried to ride in. He was a Dom with deep protective instincts. She’d been everything he couldn’t resist. She’d been right. If she’d laid her problems at Leo’s feet, he likely would have gone straight to Bryce and gotten himself killed.

She had to let him go. He’d been good to her. She couldn’t blame him for not loving her back. It wasn’t his fault, but she could damn well blame herself for not moving on. She’d been standing still for over a year. Everyone thought she’d been mourning her marriage, but it had been Leo she’d mourned.

And it was time to move on.

She gave Holder what she hoped was a gracious smile as the train began to slow. “This is my stop. It was nice to meet you.”

Holder held out his hand and she shook it. He passed her his business card. “You, too, ma’am. And if you see Leo, give him my card. Let him know I’d just like to have lunch, catch up. His secretary seemed a little confused, so I’m not sure he got my message.”

Kitten Taylor. Yeah. She was a trip. She was absolutely the subbiest woman Shelley had ever met. She made Beth look like a warrior princess. She’d probably gotten flustered at Holder’s commanding voice. “I’ll let him know.” She slipped the card into her purse. She nodded to Designer Bag Lady and stood just as the doors opened.

And immediately was back in her seat as the young man in the hoodie shoved out, his hands slamming against her chest. There were startled gasps as the young man grabbed the beaten-up leather laptop bag at her feet and leapt off the train, shoving passengers aside. Shelley scrambled to get up, reaching for the bar at the end of the seat. He’d taken her bag. She clutched at her purse, her heart pounding, a rage starting to take over. She got to her feet and pushed her way out. Her heels hit the concrete and she looked around, searching for the little shit who had her bag, and more importantly, her laptop.

He was rushing down the stairs, pushing aside anyone in his way. A woman got knocked down. He simply leapt over the railing and ran toward the street.

She had to catch that little shit. Why was she wearing three-inch heels? She was going to try anyway.

“Don’t.” A hand held her back. Holder stood behind her as the train rushed away.

“He has my laptop.” It had all her work on it. All her designs. All her thoughts. All the pictures she’d taken and sketches she’d made. Damn it. Her life was on that laptop.

“He also might have a knife or a gun,” Holder said, his grasp on her arm tightening. “I’ve already called the cops. They’re on their way.”

She could hear the sirens, but it would be too late. The thief was gone. She searched the crowd below, but he’d run toward the shopping center with its stores and restaurants and businesses. It was thick with rush-hour traffic. She couldn’t see him.

She clenched her fists and waited for the cops.

Wolf slammed the door to his massive black truck and looked at the little townhouse Shelley was living in. According to what he’d heard, it was much smaller than the huge, rambling near-mansion she’d shared with her husband before the feds had seized most of their assets.

Did she miss it? The wealth? The standing in her community? He couldn’t give her either.

He was a guest in his brother’s condo.

And it looked like she had a guest, too.

Her door opened, and a man stepped out. He was a large, bulky man. Even from his place in the parking lot, he could see that the man was at least former military if not still in the service. Shelley nodded at something he said and then he patted her shoulder and turned.

Fuck all. Steve Holder. What the hell was Holder doing with his sub?

Holder’s gaze seemed to focus, and a little smile came over his harsh face. “Wolf fucking Meyer. Small world.”

Holder walked toward him, his hand out.

Yeah, it was way too fucking small a world. What the hell was Holder doing here? Everyone in the military knew Steve Holder had set up a “security” company named White Acres based in Atlanta. He loved to recruit special ops guys, though it always had seemed a little shady to Wolf. He turned to Shelley and saw telltale signs that she’d been upset.

“Sweetheart, you want to tell me what’s going on?” Wolf asked, checking his first instinct to get in Holder’s face.

“My laptop bag got stolen,” she said, her hand on the doorsill. Her warm brown eyes were wary as she looked between the two men.

“I was sitting across from her on the train. I saw the whole thing happen. I tried to help her out,” Holder explained.

“You didn’t stop the thief?” Wolf asked, a little surprised. Holder might not be a SEAL anymore, but Wolf knew damn well he’d kept up his training.

Holder laughed a little. “You obviously have never been on DART at rush hour. I couldn’t get to him. And, honestly, I’ve been behind a desk for too long.” He turned back to Shelley. “I’m sorry. I really should have been able to catch the little fuck, but my knees aren’t what they used to be.”

Wolf seriously doubted that. And why the hell was he just hearing about this now? It had been several hours since Shelley had left The Club. He’d walked her out himself, standing on the platform with her until the train had come. He should have driven her home, but he’d had a meeting with Julian.

Holder pulled out a card and held it out to Wolf. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I had no idea you were involved with her. If I had, I would have found a way to call you. Actually, I was trying to get in touch with Leo, but he was in session apparently, whatever that means.”

Wolf took the card. “He’s a shrink.”

“Yeah, I’d heard that he made it through some serious school.”

In an amazing period of time. Leo had gotten the majority of the brains in their family. Wolf could still remember the call he’d gotten when he’d announced he was skipping college to follow his brother into the Navy.

Why the fuck do you think I’m here, Wolf? So you don’t have to be.

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” Wolf said, pocketing the card.

“And I’d love to talk to you, man. How long have you been out?” Holder asked.