I had no idea what it was about Allie Ford, but whenever she was near, I wanted to get closer, I wanted to look, I wanted to touch.
My fingers curled into my palm. She turned her head and looked my way. Gray eyes—almost silver, and always churning like a storm—locked on me. I knew she worked hard, was a loyal friend, and was also a single mother to her orphaned nephew.
I’d thumbed through her background report so many times the pages were smudged. Previously, she’d lived in New York, and had a fancy job and a nice apartment.
Until she’d left it all behind to come home to Windward and take care of her nephew.
She held my gaze and her chin lifted. Like she was challenging me. Or telling me to fuck off.
My fingers curled some more.
I couldn’t get Allie Ford out of my damn head.
She turned away and I released a breath.
She had attitude, that was for sure. She wasn’t the kind of woman to keep her thoughts to herself. Case in point, the fact that she called me by that ridiculous nickname.
And those legs…
Allie was slim and tall, and while her legs were currently covered by her sensible work pants, I’d seen her a couple of times in tiny jean shorts. My gut clenched. I bet Allie wouldn’t want to know how many times I’d taken my hand to my cock in the shower, thinking of her long, smooth legs.
One of the security team stepped out of the conference room and spotted me. “Caden, there you are. We’re ready.”
Shoving thoughts of Allie away hastily, I managed to give Paul a brief nod.Get your mind on your work, Castro.
Paul was a new hire. He was ex-Army and working out well. Clean-cut, and married with two kids, he’d been working construction and barely making ends meet. He’d jumped at the chance to take the job I offered him.
Following him, I strode into the conference room, but as I passed through the doorway, I shot one more glance down the hall over my shoulder. Allie was watching me, but quickly looked away.
Yes, I was attracted to her, but I didn’t get involved with women. I had zero to offer. I was also well-aware I wouldn’t be in Windward forever. She had a kid and she deserved better.
I focused on the man sitting slumped in the chair at the long shiny conference table. He was scowling at the floor. Hastilyerected flatscreen monitors covering the back wall showed security feeds from around the hotel. Gretchen was leaning against the wall. Another new hire, the forty-five-year-old former Marine was straight down the line and good in a fight. She was medium height, with gray-streaked, blonde-brown hair, and all packed muscle. Just the other week, I’d seen her take down an enraged man a foot taller than her. The guy had been trying to beat his wife in their suite, and Gretchen wasn’t about to let that happen.
I circled the table and let my gaze lock on Morgan Brown.
He was older than me, in his late forties, and worked in the hotel’s busy Bluff Bar and did some shifts as a server in the great room and restaurant.
He also liked to help himself to guests’ handbags and wallets.
I sat in the chair. “Mr. Brown, I’m Caden Castro.”
The man sniffed. “I know who you are. Langston’s attack dog.” His voice was belligerent.
I leaned forward. “Do you know why you’re here?”
“Nope.”
“I have you on camera stealing from the handbags of several of our guests.”
The man stiffened.
“My team is also currently conducting a search of your locker.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Stealing isn’t tolerated at the Langston Windward.”
Brown lifted a shoulder. “Whatever.”
