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  Bound by Love

  Stephie Walls

  Copyright © 2014 by Stephie Walls All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and revival systems without prior written permission from the author except where permitted by law.

  The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN-13: 978-1495442650

  ISBN-10: 1495442659

  DEDICATION

  To my friends and family who have read countless versions of this story and continued to encourage me through the journey. Tray Leigh, Pete, Jay, and Fluffy - Thank you for helping me make a dream come true. And to my sweet Little Chicken who will always be my biggest fan.

  Chapter One – Annie

  A man had to have invented heels. There is no woman in her right mind who would have ever set out to stuff her feet into a shoe with a stick on the end of it. A stick that makes her feel every pound of flesh she carries with every step she takes. I hate heels. Even more than heels, I hate that I need this job, which is forcing me to wear them. I work for a small consulting firm who sends me out to “appeal” to management, hence my tiny-ass skirt and my revealing shirt. Technically, it’s not in my job description, but it should be added in the fine print.

  Companies hire our firm to come in and carryout an employment analysis to reduce turnover, increase morale, and assist in anything else relating to employment and profitability. Being raised in this business, I seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to my clients’ needs, but apparently, my boss thinks that my “appeal” goes beyond my ability to satisfy their dilemmas. If that helps me land accounts, I’ll use it to my advantage.

  I’m in college, pursuing a degree my parents insist I have to have to make it in the real world— a degree I care little about. At twenty, I’m younger than most people in my field doing the type of work I do. I’m “up and coming” as my boss says and I’m starting to land large accounts. My boss agrees I have talent, but he thinks heels, short skirts, and tight blouses help sell my proposals to our clients. Personally, I don’t see it — I never have. I’m just your typical girl-next-door, but I guess men don’t see much past the body and the clothes (which I will ditch the moment I walk into my apartment in favor of jeans and a worn-out concert t-shirt).

  I’m currently working an account at a local distribution center, 3 Tier Auto. I’ve been here several times and have become friends with the clerk. Lynn’s a sweet girl when you get past the gruff, ‘I hate other women’ exterior. She’s a lot like me, hard outer shell, but screaming for help on the inside. You just wouldn’t know it looking at her. She’s younger than I am and getting married soon. I’m totally confused by this. I have about as much desire to get married as I do to wear these damn heels for the next two hours while I meander through the facility.

  To get to the manager’s office, I zigzag through a maze of aisles, sporting racks that reach the ceiling for storage. I assume it’s all automotive items since this is an automotive supplier, but who knows what’s really in those boxes. After meeting some of the managers, I wonder if it might be body parts of previous consultants who refused to meet their “needs”. I shiver as I think about women being encapsulated in those crates; then I see a lift stopped on the aisle next to the one I’m currently in. There’s not enough light for me to make out the face of the person on the forklift a few feet away, but I feel like I’m being watched and it unnerves me. I scurry off to the far back corner where my meeting is being held.

  An hour later, I’m being escorted around the facility, listening to two men drone on and on about where they feel the problems lie in each department. I find it interesting that men who don’t regularly work in this facility are being charged with my directive. I silently laugh; if they know what all the problems are, then why am I here? My feet are killing me, and I’m not hearing much of what’s being said. As we round the corner, I spot Lynn sitting at her desk. The guys excuse themselves after scheduling another meeting the following week to sign the final proposal before I set my plans in motion.

  Lynn looks like she’s got gossip she’s dying to spill. Since she’s one of only three women in the entire facility, she’s really close to most of the guys on the floor. I never knew men could be such drama queens, but apparently, when you put them all together with no women to even out the playing field, they turn into little hens. I plop down in the chair next to her desk, crossing my legs, wishing I could take off these damn tights and rub my poor feet. She glances my direction, displaying a huge grin.

  “You know you’re being followed?” she asks me, but she’s really making a statement. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I think she mistakes my silence for disinterest.

  “Annie! Did you hear me?” she says, waving her hand in front of my face.

  “I heard you. I just have no clue what you’re talking about. The only people following me were those suits.”

  “Are you seriously that naïve? Do you not see how the men in this place stalk you? It’s like they’re devouring you with their eyes. They’d be glad do it with more than their eyes if you ever gave any inkling you were interested or available.”

  “Well, if I were either, then I might feign interest. Since I’m not interested, therefore, making me unavailable, what’s the point?” I realize that someone who has found their future spouse at the age of eighteen isn’t going to understand where I’m coming from. But even if I were interested in a relationship, which I reiterate, I’m not, I’m a full-time college student taking fifteen credit hours, and I work full-time doing consulting work, which typically requires more than forty hours per week. What little spare time I have is not going to be spent on some douche who won’t remember my name the next time I walk through here.

  “So, you’re not even a little curious who it is?” she asks.

  “Nope, but whoever it is, tell him I’m flattered, even though I’m not interested.” I wink at her as I stand up to leave. “Shit, I left my bag in the office in the back. I’m gonna go grab it. Are we still on for tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah, Annie, but I really wish you would give someone a chance. Just let loose a little.” I throw my hand up simultaneously to wave her off and say goodbye as I smile over my shoulder. I love that girl, but dang, she needs to let up.

  As I walk the length of the aisles again, I hear a honk from one of the forklifts, catching my attention. Turning in the direction of the noise, I notice a guy standing on a lift in the aisle next to me, but I can’t see him well enough to define any of his features. It appears he’s working, but I feel eyes boring holes into my body. I pick up my pace as the forklift takes off in the other direction. Chastising myself for allowing Lynn’s game to seep into my head, I duck into the office, grab my leather bag, and back out unnoticed.

  As I’m moving toward the exit, counting the steps until I can take off these heels and head to my apartment, I hear the sound of a machine behind me. I step out the door to my right, and I’m greeted with a light “beep beep” of the forklift horn. It’s the kind of honking that says “hey,” not, “DANGER, get the hell out of the way.” I glance up just in time to catch a glimpse of him. My breath catches in my throat, suspended briefly in time.

  Holy shit! This man is gorgeous, almost beautiful in a boy next-door, rugged, Southern sort of way. I can’t tell exactly how tall he is, but he’s well over six feet, I’m guessing six-foot-three. Toting a solid frame, he has a firm build, but it’s proportionate to his size. He’s sporting a Georgia Tech hat with a navy blue t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. I realize in that
moment how damn hot it is in this warehouse, in the summer, in South Carolina. There’s a glisten on his skin from the heat, just enough to showcase the definition of his arms and an oriental tattoo on his left bicep. My eyes slide down past his t-shirt to a pair of well-worn, faded jeans that hug his hips. They hang loose down his legs and have a tear on the left knee that I could probably see through if I got close enough to look. I jerk my sight back up, trying to catch his face before he passes me, and instantly, I lose myself in his eyes. He turns his head to continue watching me as he passes, his eyes never losing contact with mine. They are the most engaging blue I have ever seen. He smiles a lopsided grin, tipping his hat with his left hand. I catch a glimpse of his soft brown hair. Just as he turns his head back around, I’m pretty sure he winks.

  Standing here in the open doorway, looking like a total idiot, I watch him ride down the aisle and holler something at the guy picking orders. I’m frozen, staring at his backside, when he turns back and looks me dead in the eyes. Startled, I rush out the door and run to my car. Geezus, Annie, what the hell was that about? I’m muttering to myself as I get into my little Toyota Celica. You act like you’ve never seen a good-looking guy before. But he was more than just good-looking. There was something in the way he looked at me, but I only saw it for a second and couldn’t tell what it was. Fumbling for my keys, I get in my car, take off the damn heels, and throw them into the backseat. Slowly, I let out the breath that I’ve been holding since the instant I laid eyes on him.

  Chapter Two – Gray

  Damn, she’s here again. She’s been here a few times during my shifts, but I don’t know her name and haven’t had the opportunity to meet her. I know she was hired by the DC Manager, Brett, to fix the personnel issues. Being on the weekend shift, I don’t have many guys under me, and we certainly don’t have any issues that require an outside source to fix, so I’ve missed out on those meetings. Normally, I relish the fact I don’t have to partake in the bullshit managers have to endure to make the corporate cronies happy, but now I’m thinking I got screwed on this deal. I could be the one escorting her around to different departments, airing our company’s dirty laundry. Daydreaming, I lose sight of her.

  I have no idea where she has disappeared to, or if she is even still in the building, so I give up my chase for the day and actually start doing my job. I’m standing here talking to Topher about the stupid shit we are going to do this weekend, when he stops mid-sentence, pointing over my shoulder. She’s walking towards Lynn, giving me a full-on frontal view. Her legs are amazing in the light blue plaid skirt she’s wearing which stops about four inches above the tops of her knees. She’s got on navy blue tights, kick-ass black heels that make her legs go on forever, and a blue fitted blouse that matches one of the blues in her skirt. Her boobs aren’t huge, but they’re perky, a nice mouthful. She’s thin, but every inch of her frame is toned. I’m guessing she weighs about one-hundred-and-thirty pounds, and she’s on the tall side of average.

  I catch her smile at Lynn, and my heart melts, suddenly I am in a trance standing here. Her perfect smile and blinding white teeth could light up any room, but it’s the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle just a little at the edges that allows me to catch a glimmer of mischief. They twinkle like a fucking cartoon and the color – the color is amazing, like honey. I can picture my hand wrapping her long, thick, chestnut hair around my fist as I take her from behind. She’s fucking gorgeous, and way out of my league. She looks like she comes from money, and who the hell has a job like hers at her age. I’m guessing she’s twenty-two, maybe twenty-three years old. She probably knows someone important, but this is a huge account for a person so young to have landed. I definitely have no shot in hell.

  She tosses herself in the chair next to Lynn’s desk. I’m half listening to whatever shit Topher is throwing at me, while trying to eavesdrop on the conversation she is having. Then I hear it, “Annie, Did you hear me?” Lynn’s waving her hand in front of her face, and it dawns on me her name is Annie. Now I have a name to call out when I jack off to her face in the shower.

  I’m lost in a daze when Topher backhands my chest, pointing in her direction. He steps away from his forklift to keep from being thrown off it as I race down the aisle after her.

  She’s consuming my thoughts. The way she sashays through the warehouse talking to the guys from management, how comfortable she is talking to Lynn, and then how stunned she looked when our eyes met for the first time. I need to see her outside of this damn place, but I know nothing about her other than her first name. I don’t even know which consulting firm we opted to go with to get her, but my understanding is, she was the deciding factor. Two of the managers have bets on who will get her naked first. I’ll be damned if either one of those fuckers is going to lay a finger on her. I may not be good enough for her, but those losers sure the hell aren’t either.

  Lynn knows I’ve been tracking Annie through the warehouse, so finally I give in. I wander over to her desk in order to weasel all the information I can regarding Annie. She looks up and smiles at me. It’s a calculated smile. I can already tell she knows I’m not here to talk shop. Damn, this sucks. I don’t play this game. I don’t chase women. Truth be known, I shouldn’t be chasing this one; it’s going to blow up in my face. I’ve got too much of my own shit going on, shit that I do not need to bring near her high society ass, but I can’t help myself. I sit down in the same chair Annie sat in earlier today.

  “I’m seeing her tonight if you want to casually show up at the same place,” Lynn grins from ear to ear. She knows I want Annie, but she also knows why I shouldn’t be anywhere near her, yet she doesn’t bring that up. She just offers me a bone.

  “I’m not there yet, but can you tell me anything about her?” I ask, genuinely interested in any details she will share, even if it’s just a glimpse at who she is.

  “What do you wanna know, Gray? You know you’re playing with fire. She’ll shoot you down faster than you can imagine,” she sighs, knowing I’m still going to ask questions.

  “I just want to know something about her. Little things like, what’s her last name, where does she work, where does she live, what’s she like, how old is she, was she –” she stops me mid-sentence.

  “Damn, Gray, take a breath. How about one question at a time? Her last name is Teasman. She works for Waltons. She lives in Greenville off Congaree – you know those new apartments they built last year. She’s also a full-time student, studying Business at USCS. She’s twenty.” She looks like she’s about to ask me what else I want to know, but I’m stuck on twenty.

  “She’s twenty?!! There’s no way she’s that young,” I state, completely dumbfounded. I mean, I knew she was young, but I was thinking twenty-two at worst. Twenty, that’s close to jailbait.

  “You’d never know it talking to her. She’s finishing her sophomore year in college. She’s absolutely out of your league – smart, funny, kind, just an all-around good girl.” She winks at me to say she’s kidding, but I know it’s the truth. “Seriously, Gray, she’s kind of lost. She’s got a lot going on, and is just trying to keep her head above water. She’s not interested in dating or fooling around. Adding your shit to her plate is probably not a good thing to do.” I know she’s telling me the truth as my friend, but she lost me at, “She’s kind of lost,” because so am I. I can’t think of a better way to find myself than with someone else looking to figure out who they are, too. That’s both the smartest and dumbest thought I’ve ever had.

  “I swear, Lynn, I just want to get to know her. You know I have shit preventing me from doing anything other than that. There’s just something about her that calls to me.” I really mean every word. I do want to get to know her. I’m just trying to make myself, and Lynn, believe that I don’t want to fuck her while I’m doing so. “Do me a favor, when you guys go out tonight, if she brings me up, call me, and I’ll make an appearance. If she doesn’t, no harm done.”

  “Gray, what are you up to? You h
ave that look on your face that says you’re scheming, and I don’t trust it.” She’s eyeing me with suspicion, so I ruffle her hair, which pisses her off. I hop up as Topher walks by.

  “Topher! When you clockin’ out?” I ask, grabbing him.

  “In about fifteen minutes. I gotta get those trucks off the dock before I leave. What’s up, are you bailing on me tonight?”

  “Nah, I was hoping you’d drop something off for me.”

  He looks at me quizzically. “I guess. What is it and where am I going?”

  Not giving anything away that he would immediately say no to, I tell him to come find me when he clocks out.

  Finding something to write on in the office, I grab a pad of paper off the desk, chuckling to myself that it’s Gameshell Inc. paper. That was the company we rejected for our consulting project because we wanted Annie. So I tear off a sheet and write, “I look forward to seeing you walking through the DC, completely unaware that I’m hopelessly drawn to you. You had on my favorite skirt yesterday, and I just couldn’t help but watch you. Thursdays have become my favorite day of the week. ~ GD.”

  Sitting on the desk, I’m thinking about what a stupid mistake I’m making reaching out to this girl. I have no business trying to connect with her. I keep telling myself to leave her alone, to just watch her from afar, but I simply don’t have that kind of self-control where she’s concerned. Interrupting my thoughts, Topher knocks on the door.

  “I’m out, man. What’d you want me to drop off?”

  “I just need you to ride by Waltons,” I say, acting all nonchalant.

  “What the fuck do you need me to drop off at Waltons? Isn’t that the consulting firm Brett brought in?” I see the look of understanding cross his face as it dawns on him what I’m asking him to do. “You just want me to walk in their office looking like this,” he says, waving his arms down his body, “and say, ‘Hey, can you give this scrap of paper to that chick that comes out to our DC?’ Geezus, Gray, have you thought through this at all? Do you even know her name? Have you considered the risk you’re taking here?”