What You Need (Need You #1) Read online

  “Fine. We will discuss adjusting the parameters.” Anita and her minions stood. “I wasn’t expecting this much resistance, Lola.”

  Not until they were out of the room did Lola say, “Right. You were expecting us to roll over.”

  I laughed. But my laughter died when they all looked at me.

  Lola cocked her head. “Thank you for speaking up, Lennox. For once I’m grateful that you’re not the ‘eyes forward, don’t rock the boat’ type of employee.”

  My cheeks heated. “I don’t like bullies. And that’s what this feels like. We know our worth. It isn’t that I resent us having to prove it, but no one in Legal, Acquisitions or Finance would allow those parameters.”

  “True.” Lola looked around the room. “No external gossip on this. If I’m taking a stand on the privacy side, I’d better not hear a whisper that this was discussed elsewhere. Understood?”

  Nods of agreement around the room.

  “Good. Individual schedules are in your in-box. If you need me, I’ll be at the drugstore loading up on antacids and aspirin.”

  I’d been there one hour and it was already looking to be a very long week.

  *

  My heart raced when I saw Brady enter the employee break room on Wednesday just after noon. The man wore a suit like no other. His hair wasn’t as styled as usual and I wondered if it was an incidental side effect from running his hand through it.

  He scanned the room—I had the foolish hope he was looking for me. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday night. When his gaze landed on me, his lips curled into a knowing smile before he grabbed something out of the industrial fridge. Then his cousin Ash strolled in and a collective silence filled the space.

  Two Lund corporate officers breaking bread with the lowest-level employees?

  Brady handed Ash a plastic container and they made their way to a table by the windows.

  “That’s odd, isn’t it? The CFO has deigned to eat in here. Think the catering company quit? Or maybe just his personal chef?”

  “He doesn’t have a personal chef,” I said without thinking. I felt Sydney staring at me.

  “And you know that how?”

  “Something about that came up when I was in his office last week,” I said offhandedly.

  Sydney speared a chunk of her salad. “Whatever happened with that project?”

  “It’s ongoing.” I changed the subject.

  And it worked for fifteen minutes . . . until Brady wandered over. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made a point of looking at Sydney first. Then me. “So how’re things in the secretarial pool?”

  I knew he said that to get a rise out of me. So I didn’t disappoint him. “‘Secretarial pool’ is an antiquated term, Mr. Lund.”

  “As I’m aware, Miss Greene. But the term floater isn’t appealing. What the office temps need is a cool moniker like the IT or HR departments have.”

  “Maybe HR should run a contest. The person who creates the cleverest name wins a paid day off from work.”

  “Excellent suggestion. I’ll bring it up at our next staff meeting.” Brady smiled at me and I got that funny tickle in my belly. “Perhaps even I’ll submit something.”

  “Make sure you do it anonymously. We wouldn’t want to end up with a stu—” Crap. I couldn’t say that. “Stuck with a name HR chose as a winner only because the CFO suggested it and they felt pressure to choose your entry by default.”

  Brady raised that one eyebrow at me and my face heated. Not from embarrassment, but the last time he did that I ended up plastered body to body with him, my mouth fused to his.

  Sydney, apparently oblivious to the sexual tension winging between us, leaned in to get his attention. “I, for one, would be happy if you submitted a suggestion, since that indicates upper-level management is aware of the necessity of our department.”

  Dammit, Syd. Don’t go there.

  Brady broke his gaze and focused on Sydney. “I realize I initially misunderstood the wide range of responsibilities the office temps undertake, but I assure you, I’m fully aware of the importance of the department now.”

  “Does Anita Mohr know that?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Are you fully aware that Ms. Mohr has mounted an internal investigation of what we office temps ‘do’ on a daily basis? And each one of us has to report to the assigned two-person oversight committee every day?”

  I watched as the mask that he wore as CFO slipped back into place. “Yes, it’s standard procedure and that’s all I can say.” He smiled at Sydney. “But thank you for the reminder.” Then Brady’s gaze moved to me and pinned me in place. “Miss Greene. Please speak to my admin about scheduling a brief meeting at the end of the day today regarding that project we’re working on.”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll do it as soon as I finish my lunch.”

  “Thank you. Enjoy your day, ladies.” After that, he walked off.

  *

  One benefit of being a floater was that even with the daily schedule changes, we spent the last half hour of our workday back in our department. Today, it allowed me time to gather my thoughts before dealing with the CFO.

  None of my coworkers were back at their desks, since some departments at Lund worked from seven to four or from nine to six, not just the eight-to-five shift. I e-mailed Lola my report, gathered my things and headed up the nearly forty floors into the lion’s den.

  Jenna smiled at me warmly and indicated I should wait while she finished her phone conversation.

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Lund will accept the invitation. Please forward all the information to me at the e-mail address that’s listed on the letterhead and we’ll coordinate his schedule from there. Thank you.” Jenna touched her earpiece and used the stylus to scribble on her tablet. Then she looked up at me. “Lennox. I’ll let Mr. Lund know you’re here.”

  “Thank you.”

  I’d barely started to pace in the reception area—which was a misnomer, because this was his executive assistant’s space; she was the second person one had to go through to get to the CFO—when Jenna said, “You’re welcome to head on back.”

  I nodded, squared my shoulders and forced myself to keep my steps slow and steady. A set of gigantic double doors loomed in front of me. I palmed the handle, inhaled one deep, calming breath and opened the door.

  Brady wasn’t sitting behind his enormous desk in his oversized leather chair with his back to me. No, he was resting his behind on the front edge of the desk, directly in front of the chair he expected me to sit in.

  I moved behind the chair, placed my hands on the top of it, putting the piece of furniture between us. “It’s not five o’clock yet.”

  “And that concerns you . . . why?”

  “I just need to clarify whether I’m here as your employee or your—?”

  “You are not my direct employee, Lennox. You don’t answer to me.” The muscles in his jaw bunched as he clenched his teeth. “Is it so hard for you to admit we’re involved?”

  “Are we?”

  He made a growling noise. “Come here.”

  I was such a sucker; that imperious tone did it for me in a bad way. I liked it when he showed me his commanding male side that had driven him to become the youngest CFO in Lund Industries history.

  Skirting the chair, I stood in front of him. My mouth had gone dry and I’d started to sweat just from the determined look in his eyes.

  Brady’s gaze never left mine. “You’re off the clock.” Then his hands clamped onto my hips and he tugged me between his legs. Despite the advantage of my high heels, I didn’t loom over him. But even if I had, he’d still retain control. He slid his hand away from my left hip, stopping between my hip bones. Then he made a leisurely pass up the center of my torso until he could curl his hand around the back of my neck. He pulled my head down and kissed the living shit out of me.

  His mouth . . . God, the way the man used his tongue had me imagining where else he’d expertly tease, stroke and swirl it like tha
t. He kissed me with urgency and a hunger that caught me off guard, because I’d assumed he’d be controlled even in passion.

  I had never been happier to be proven wrong.

  I sifted my fingers through his hair, loving the soft groan he made when my nails scored his scalp. I kissed him back with equal voracity. The heat from his body intensified the scent of his cologne. I couldn’t take a breath without the warm scent of his skin filling my lungs. I swallowed and his taste permeated my mouth from my lips to the back of my tongue.

  By the time Brady slowed the kiss, I was surprised to still be standing.

  He nuzzled my cleavage, his breath coming hard and fast across my damp skin, his hands squeezing and releasing my hips. “Fuck, I want you. Earlier in the break room I imagined hauling you to your feet and kissing you so everyone would know that we are involved.” He lightly bit my neck, sending a delicious shiver through me. “Intimately involved.”

  Part of me wanted to demand, Then why didn’t you? But the smarter part prevailed and said, “Thank you for your restraint.”

  He pushed me back a step so he could stand and loom over me. “Since we’re off the clock, I can admit I wasn’t aware that Anita had mounted a full-scale investigation of your department. I’ll add a disclaimer that rarely do department heads share that type of information with me.”

  “I figured that might be the case after that first meeting when you were surprised by the size and workload of our department.”

  Brady dropped his hands and sidestepped me to walk to the window. Several long moments passed before he spoke. “I’m trying to find a balance here, Lennox, between being pissed off that you didn’t talk to me about this and being grateful that you didn’t bring it up.”

  Say what?

  “After lunch I did some checking. The oversight committee has marked off two weeks for a thorough”—was it my imagination or had he sneered that word?—“investigation of the office temps department. I understand why you’d prefer to keep our involvement out of the spotlight.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “But fair warning. I don’t give a damn. We’re not keeping this in the closet. This weekend I’m introducing you to my family as my girlfriend.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. The Vikings have a home game and we’ve got a private box, so the whole family will be there.”

  A case of nerves hit me so hard that I felt dizzy and had to sit down. But I drew the line at dropping my head between my knees.

  Then Brady was right there. His hand beneath my chin, tipping my head back. That too handsome face too close to mine. “Lennox, baby, why are you as white as a sheet?”

  Because the thought of meeting your mother—who the employees secretly refer to as the “Vicious Valkyrie”—scares the life out of me. She’ll never accept me—the girl with the unwed mother and the roadie for a father, who ran away from home at age sixteen and spent years running wild.

  Yeah. I could just imagine the look on her face if I showed up on Brady’s arm as his date at one of those fancy charity functions that the Lund family sponsors.

  When he said, “Talk to me,” I realized I hadn’t responded to his question.

  “I’m a little freaked out, okay? And just because you’re used to moving in the upper echelon of Twin Cities society, that doesn’t mean I’d be comfortable with it. In the Lund family private skybox I’d be rubbing elbows with the Lund Industries CEO; your cousin Nolan, who’s being groomed as the next CEO; your cousin Ash, the COO; as well as your siblings—Annika the PR whiz and Jensen, a football phenomenon. Oh, and there’s your cousin Jaxson, the hockey star; your mom, who was a former model; your dad, who heads up corporate relations; your other uncle, who is president of the board of directors. And your aunts, who are responsible for several of the biggest charities and charity events in the city.” I paused to take a breath.

  “You done?” Brady asked in a frosty tone.

  “No. I don’t even know what your brother Walker does, but I’m sure it’s equally amazing.”

  “He’s a carpenter.”

  “I bet he’s more than a carpenter. He probably owns a construction business.”

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point.”

  “It’s not! You don’t—”

  He closed his mouth over mine and I lost all coherent thought as he kissed me mindless. When he’d erased my will to protest, he eased back only far enough to look into my eyes when he murmured, “That’s what matters to me, Lennox. What anyone else thinks of you is immaterial, because I like you. Say you’ll meet my family.”

  Stupid, sweet man. “Okay.”

  He grinned and kissed me again.

  Two knocks sounded and the door opened behind us. I jumped.

  Brady put his hand on my shoulder as if to keep me in place and pushed himself upright. “Yes, Jenna?”

  “I’m leaving for the day, sir. Answering service is on and the doors will be locked behind me.”

  “Thank you. Have a good evening and I’ll see you tomorrow.” The door closed with a soft click.

  I covered my face with my hands and groaned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Seriously?” I looked at him. “You aren’t the least bit bothered that she caught us making out?”

  “She’ll likely give me props tomorrow, since that’s the first time I’ve been in this situation.”

  I wanted to believe him. But honestly, he was too good looking to me for it to be true. Wasn’t he aware that most of the women who worked for Lund Industries swooned over him and were scared of him in equal measure?

  Brady tugged me to my feet. “Besides, I told her that we’re involved.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I needed her to know that if you came up here or called she was to let you in and put you through immediately.” He brushed his mouth across mine. “Which didn’t happen the past two days, much to my disappointment, forcing me to demand a meeting with you.”

  “That’s probably the only way you’ll get me up here, Mr. Lund.”

  “I’ll remember that,” he murmured, and gave me another barely-there kiss.

  “So I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Count on it. Oh, and I expect we’ll have dinner tomorrow night. After.”

  My brain immediately added we have sex to the word after. I ignored my body chiming in with a loud Hooray! and asked, “After what?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Have I mentioned I hate surprises?”

  “No.” He feathered his lips down my jaw. “Remember when you said I had to meet you halfway? That I had to come up with some wild things I wanted to try on my own?”

  “Yes.”

  “I came up with one.” He sounded so proud of himself.

  It made me happy that, even though his family had pushed this change thing on him, he’d started to embrace it on his own terms. “I can’t wait to see what it is.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I still have work to catch up on. So I’ll walk you to the door.”

  *

  The next day after work I had a sense of déjà vu. Jenna greeted me, and I waited until she okayed me to enter the inner sanctum of the CFO’s domain. I walked into Brady’s office. “Okay, spill it, Lund. What’s your secret wild adventure tonight?”

  Brady grinned wickedly. “We’re hitting a tattoo parlor. I’m bringing you with me to whisper all sorts of dirty distractions into my ear to take my mind off the pain.”

  I rolled my eyes at his usage of tattoo parlor. “I hope you’re not choosing something weird just to prove you’re edgy.”

  “Define weird.”

  “Getting an actual brand.”

  His eyes widened. “Such as a hot branding iron seared onto my skin, like with livestock?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll pass on that one.”

  “Good.” I glanced down at his crotch. “I won’t stick around if you choose to get a barber pole tattooed on your . . . well, pole.”

 
“To be honest, I’m a little scared that you know about that kind of tat.” He paused. “You’ve seen that?”

  “No, I’ve seen a couple of different guys who had something similar done. It wasn’t like I dated these dudes; they just felt the need to drop their pants and show me their ink. A friend of mine swore she dated a guy who had his lollipop inked like one of those rainbow-swirl suckers.”

  “Not touching that one. But rest assured, no dick tats. No branding. No piercing.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Even though I have a new appreciation for them.”

  Of course he did. “Where did you decide to go?”

  “Zorn.”

  “You mean Zorn’s?”

  “Yes. Zorn is doing the tat.”

  “Zorn himself?”

  Brady frowned. “Why? Is there more than one Zorn?”

  “No, that’s what I’m saying. You’re having the Zorn do your ink?”

  “Yes. He did the design too.”

  That must’ve cost him a fortune. Then again, money wasn’t an issue for Brady Lund.

  He stroked my cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this for years, Lennox. Being with you just provided the prompt that was already there.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Brady

  ‡

  “Remember,” Lennox warned me, “the phrase ‘tattoo parlor’ is as antiquated as the phrase ‘secretarial pool.’”

  “Good to know.”

  “You’ve got the design?” she prompted.

  I picked up her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “I think you’re more nervous about this tattoo than I am.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Of course I am.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m afraid this is an impulsive decision you’ll regret.”

  “Do you regret any of your tats?”

  “Just the one on my ass,” she muttered.

  “Are you trying to get me hard? Because imagining you naked does have that effect on me¸ Lennox.”

  She blushed. I loved seeing that rosy flush on her cheeks.