Dragon with Benefits (Forgotten Dragons Book 4) Page 5

  Karen and Petra looked at each other and shared a mean giggle as he walked away.

  “He really is a jerk,” Karen said, rolling back to her station. “Maybe we should just both find some new place to work.”

  Petra swallowed. “No. You’d be able to move, no problem. You’ve been a writer here for years. I’m still trying to break in.”

  “You’ll get it,” Karen said, giving her an encouraging smile as she turned back to her screen. “It’s going to be an amazing story, and I can’t wait to read it.”

  “I hope so,” Petra said, reading through what she already had on Trevor.

  “Who is he, anyway?” Bret, who’d been clearly listening in from a few rows back, called out to her. “Tell us more about him at least. Everyone’s curious.”

  She shook her head, surprised by her protective reaction. Before, she’d been excited by the prospect of telling her co-workers when she finally found out more about the sushi douche.

  Now she just sort of wanted… to keep him to herself.

  She flushed, shaking her head. “I’m not releasing any info before the article.”

  “Rats,” Bret said. “I wasn’t going to steal anything.” He stood and came over to her desk, leaning against it. Bret was well-groomed and handsome, only a few inches taller than Petra. “I’d never steal anything from you, Petra.”

  She sighed as she looked up at him in front of her computer. “Did you need something, Bret?”

  “Go out with me this weekend,” Bret said. “You need to try my new boat.”

  She shook her head. Bret came from old money and didn’t even need this job, but he liked seeing his byline on things so he wrote a few articles a month.

  Petra wasn’t at all tempted.

  No men. Ever again. Just business.

  “It’s nothing personal, Bret,” she said. “But I’m not looking to date.”

  He let out a groan. “Oh, come on. Have you even been on a sailboat?”

  She immediately thought of one capsizing with her below deck, pounding wildly on the windows, sinking to a watery grave. “Nope. And I don’t want to.”

  Karen snorted. “Bret, I’ll go.”

  “You’re married,” he said, giving her a stern look.

  Karen laughed. “But not dead. I want to go on the boat.”

  “Bring your husband and a pretty lady for a double, and it’s a deal,” Bret said.

  “There you go,” Petra said. “Karen will hook you up with someone way better.”

  Bret sighed. “Fine.” He walked back to his desk. “Let me know if you change your mind, Petra. The boat’s always waiting. With dinner and fine wine.”

  Dinner and fine wine. It made her think of a pair of sexy gold eyes watching her over a wine glass.

  Damn. She was in trouble.

  “Sorry, Bret,” Petra said, “but I can’t be persuaded.”

  Not even by a man with warm hands, perfect lips, and bronze hair.

  As Trevor paced the carpet in his study, he couldn’t get his mind off Petra.

  Ever since kissing her on the porch, he’d been wondering what had come over him to make such a move.

  And why had it felt so good?

  He and Chad had been with women over the years. Not together, because none of them had ever seemed like the right partner for that, but when Trevor was younger, he’d allowed some of the more aggressive human women to get intimate with him.

  He’d been honest about his intentions, that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. But he’d been curious to see what sex was all about and why humans seemed so obsessed with it.

  He hadn’t cared for it much, and after a few times, he’d gotten tired of the feeling that he was using the women, regardless of how much they insisted they didn’t want anything further.

  He didn’t want to take when he had nothing to give.

  So why had he kissed Petra? And why had it felt like riding on a comet and falling from the sky all at once? Why was his whole body warm whenever he remembered it? Why did he replay it over and over in his mind, remembering her shocked eyes and the way she’d touched her mouth?

  The door to the study pushed open, and a very tired, cranky-looking Chad walked through.

  “I can hear you pacing from the kitchen. Good God, it’s like angry Bigfoot. What’s wrong?”

  Trevor clenched his jaw, irritated at being discovered. “Nothing.”

  Chad slumped in a chair, wearing a purple velour robe over black silk pajamas. “Good. Nothing should be wrong since you don’t have to deal with all this fae nonsense. Honestly, it’s exhausting.”

  Trevor walked over and sat across from Chadwick. “You okay? You need help?” Trevor rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. “I should be out there with you. We’re partners.”

  Chad looked at him with a quiet smile. “And we always will be. But as long as Taylor is heading up the fae project, they really only need one of us there.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You know I don’t want both of us to suffer when only one of us has to.”

  “It’s not like that,” Trevor said, putting a hand on Chad’s knee and giving him a gentle shove. “I suffer if you suffer. You know that.”

  Chad sighed. “Things should go back to normal soon. Unless we’re hosting fae princes. Then—”

  “Does that look possible?” Trevor asked.

  “Yes,” Chad said. “It looks likely. Anyway, how did things go with the reporter?”

  “Oh,” Trevor said somewhat nervously. “I’m working on that.”

  Chadwick sat back with a sigh, running a hand through his hair again. “How was the interview?”

  Trevor shook his head. “I’m not sure yet. We met over dinner.”

  Chad’s purple eyes met Trevor’s as a grin spread over his face. “Hm. Dinner, huh?”

  Trevor nodded, flushing against his will. “It’s your fault. You interrupted our other meeting, and—”

  “She intrigues you,” Chadwick said, eyes widening as he sat back up. “Interesting. Mating potential?”

  Everything in Trevor just shut down for a second.

  Of course she was mating potential. He knew after only one evening, after only one kiss, that any man would be lucky to have her.

  But Trevor knew Chadwick was only asking in the context of a mate for them both.

  “Don’t look so troubled,” Chadwick said. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He looked tired again. “Why don’t you have her over when I’m gone? Cook something. Charm her. See if she’s a potential mate while you’re at it.”

  “Hm,” Trevor said. “I suppose.”

  “See? It’s all going to work out.” Chadwick stood, pushing on his knees to do so. Trevor had never seen him look so exhausted.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Trevor asked. “You should let me help you more. I’m your partner.”

  Chadwick gave him a tired nod. “I know. And things will go back to normal shortly. In the meantime, try to have some fun.” He smiled. “She seems like an interesting person.”

  Trevor only had time for one white-hot flare of jealousy before Chadwick left the room, already picking up his phone to answer another call.

  Trevor pulled out his phone. Now that Chadwick had told him to do it, asking her to come over was basically an order. The thought made him smirk until he realized he had no idea what he should say to ask her out.

  Was it going to be a date or an interview? Things were already getting too muddy.

  He couldn’t mate her, so what was he doing?

  But since he couldn’t resist, he pulled up his contacts and sent her a quick text.

  Dinner tonight at my place? I’ve been told that my food doesn’t kill people.

  He watched the trees sway in the wind outside his window as he waited, then grinned when he saw her response.

  Well, with such an appetizing offer, how can I say no?

  He smirked, typing back his answer.

  Then let me make it even more appetizing by tell
ing you that only one person other than me has ever eaten my cooking, and they’re fairly biased. So it could actually be really bad.

  He set down the phone, already buzzing with anticipation for her answer.

  Well, you do get takeout a lot…

  He snorted. Damn, he loved how sassy she was. As I said, I’m pretty sure it won’t be fatal, he texted back.

  That’s good. You don’t want to be downgraded from Sushi Douchebag to Murdering Douchebag.

  He frowned. You can stop using that nickname by the way. I prefer sushi hero.

  What part of that made you a hero? You literally committed acts of violence on that innocent, innocent fish. Though, sushi is stinky, so I don’t blame you. Wait, did I just prove sushi sucks? I win.

  His face was starting to hurt from grinning too much. Damn, what would it be like to just be able to banter with her whenever he wanted?

  To have her in his life every day.

  He took a deep breath, pushing that image away from him. Far away.

  She was beautiful and impulsive and perfect. And if he allowed himself, he could probably fall in love with her.

  But it could never work, so he pulled out his phone and thought hard before he sent his reply, trying to regain a more professional tone between them.

  Well, I promise not to cook sushi, and I’ll be a perfect gentleman the entire night so you have nothing to worry about.

  He sent the text and turned back to the window, ignoring his dragon’s disappointed growl at his choice.

  When the phone buzzed, he glanced down at her text and groaned as he read her words, unable to get the smile off his face.

  Yay on no sushi. BOO on being a gentleman.

  He rubbed his face, smiling helplessly.

  Damn, there was no way he could resist this woman.

  Chapter 6

  After the fancy night they’d had, Petra was determined to come to Trevor’s place much more casually this time. As a result, she wore her comfiest, oversized knit sweater over a tank top and skinny jeans that were soft and faded from being washed.

  It didn’t change the way Trevor’s eyes lit up with heat when he saw her.

  She was currently sitting at the granite counter, watching him chop onions and expertly slide them into the sauce he was making.

  “So you can cook too?” She couldn’t help but be impressed. “That’s unexpected.”

  “Why?” He gave her a confused look. “We have a huge kitchen.” He continued putting ingredients in the sauce, and the air started to smell amazing.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think rich people actually used them.” She cleared her throat. “Not that I’m saying you’re rich. I mean, you could have family that—”

  “I’m rich,” he said flatly. “I always will be.”

  She cocked her head. “Why doesn’t that sound like a good thing?”

  “It is,” he said, sliding a pan into the oven. “It’s just… Well, it’s not everything.”

  “No,” she said. “My dad would agree with you on that. He always said the best things in life weren’t for sale, and there are no discount deals on love.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting thing to say.” He set a timer on the oven and gestured for her to follow him into the living room.

  He took a seat on a soft couch, and she sat on a chair across from him, still a little nervous about what all this meant.

  “Your dad sounds like a unique person,” Trevor said, leaning back against the side of the couch. His long body was almost panther-like splayed out like that. He was the perfect picture of composed and dangerous at the same time.

  “He was,” she said with a twinge. “He passed away a few years ago. Not to get too negative about it.”

  Trevor studied her with those golden eyes that were so beautiful against his tanned skin. His lashes were dark, lending a hint of mystery to him. He pursed full lips. “It’s not being negative to discuss those we love who have passed on.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve lost someone?”

  He shook his head, leaning forward to rub his hands together, deep in thought. “No. But a close friend of mine lost someone very close to him. We talked about it a lot.”

  “What about your parents? Still alive?” She knew it had nothing to do with the interview. She still wanted to ask.

  “No,” he said simply. “No family. Except Chad. He’s like family.”

  “So another off-limits topic, then,” she said.

  “No, just not something that matters in my day-to-day life. They didn’t even raise me.”

  “Who did?”

  He pinned her with a glare. “Maybe it is an off-limits topic.”

  “Sorry,” she said, giving him a shrug. “I can’t help but want to know more about you.”

  “Me as well,” he said, looking resigned about it. “Would it be hypocritical for me to ask more questions about your family?”

  She shook her head. “Ask away. Unlike you, I’m an open book.”

  He smiled at that, and she felt something in her bursting at how good it felt to see that smile. Why should she care if he smiled or not?

  “In that case, what happened to your father? It seems you two were very close.”

  “We were,” she said. “My mom died when I was little. Car accident. It was always just me and my dad. He gave up everything to raise me and hid his own grief to give me a childhood full of love. I’ll always be grateful to him.”

  “He sounds like a good man,” Trevor said.

  “He was.” She frowned. “Is? I mean, I don’t know what I believe in, but saying he was just sounds wrong.”

  “I understand. Say it however you need to.”

  And suddenly, Petra realized this was the most she’d talked about her father. And it was with the sushi douchebag. What was the world coming to?

  “Anyway, I made it up to him somewhat, I think, when I came to help him immediately after college when he got cancer.” She felt clouds gathering overhead, making her eyes sting, and pushed away the emotion. Not what she wanted to feel now. “I had a good couple of years with him to really get to know him even better, and then he was gone.”

  “I’m sorry,” Trevor said, running his hand through his hair. “That’s awful. I mean, it’s good that you were there, but it’s terrible that you had to give up so much and that he couldn’t be saved.”

  She shrugged. “He was happy. I think he believed he would see my mom.”

  “And what do you believe?”

  She sighed. “I believe that we can’t really know, so it’s best to just live the best life we can and be the best person we can be for ourselves and the world.”

  “Wow,” he said, blinking as he sat back. “That’s quite a wonderful perspective for someone who has been through so much.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “It’s not too bad. I’ve been lucky in a lot of ways, unlucky in some, but I’m on course now and on the way to getting what I want for my future.”

  “The promotion,” Trevor said, getting up to go to the kitchen when a timer dinged.

  She followed him. “Yes, exactly.”

  “But not a boyfriend?” He sent her a look that wasn’t exactly subtle, and she felt blood rush to her face.

  “No. I’m not looking for one of those again.”

  “Really?” He pulled the lasagna out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. It smelled amazing. “Not a husband either?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe people aren’t meant to be with each other that way.”

  Trevor thought for a moment as he got plates and utensils ready for them to eat. “I don’t know. People vary.”

  “What about you?” She couldn’t help asking. “Do you think people are meant to commit to one person?”

  He began to cut the lasagna, sliding generous portions onto their plates so he could carry them into the dining room. “I’m not sure I’m the best one to ask,” he said, dodging the question entirely as he set down the foo
d and pulled out her chair.

  Damn, it felt like she was being served at a restaurant. And if they weren’t doing the interview and neither of them was looking for love, then what were they doing right now?

  “Be right back. Grabbing the wine,” Trevor said, disappearing.

  When he was back, he poured wine in each of their glasses and finally sat down to rest. Now they could talk.

  Except Petra had no idea what to talk about now that they’d covered death and boyfriends, and it was still early in the night.

  “So why have you given up on love?” Trevor asked, sipping his wine, having eaten most of his lasagna before she even got halfway through.

  “I just… I’m not sure men work that way.”

  “I’m sure plenty of men can commit,” Trevor said.

  She shook her head. “It’s not like that out there anymore. Men want to sow wild oats. Play the field. Watch constant porn. Claim monogamy isn’t realistic. It just got old.”

  The one boyfriend she’d had ended up a disappointment that had devastated her, and it hadn’t taken long upon reentering the dating field to realize things were all messed up.

  Besides, she might go through all of it all over again just to be abandoned.

  It was better to be realistic. To just make her life better alone and decide what role she might allow men into later.

  “Gross,” Trevor said. “I can see why you’re done with them.”

  “You aren’t like that?” She took a bite of her lasagna as he watched her eagerly. “You don’t lead women on, then say commitment is impossible?”

  “No,” Trevor said. “And I hope there are at least some other men who don’t, though I can’t say for sure. The world is dark sometimes.”

  She nodded. “It’s better to be alone. Stay safe. Watch your own back.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know about that. Friends are good, though.”

  “Are we friends?” She looked up at him. “I mean, you’re serving me wine and making me lasagna. Should I assume you want something?”

  He narrowed his eyes slightly. “All I want is for you to eat my lasagna. Nothing more.”

  “You sure?” She felt heat rise in her as she remembered their kiss. “You kissed me.”