Cal's POV
My eyes moved around the club, taking in every detail and person as I looked for any potential disturbances. I work for Rangeman LLC, and tonight's assignment has me working security at a nightclub in Trenton. Rangeman is a premium security company that employs a lot of us ex-military men as well as some civilians with specific skill sets. We do bond enforcement, private security, and monitored security systems. Many of us still have contracts with Special Forces to provide our services as needed.
Most of us are pretty closed-off, private individuals, but I guess a bit of information is in order. My name is Calvin Holmes, and I'm a thirty-year old, six and a half foot tall, 275-pound Navy SEAL badass. I swore an oath to protect my country at the age of 18 and I still do that to this day, whether it's working for Rangeman here in Trenton or on missions. I don't take shit from anyone, and thanks to the flaming skull tattoo on my forehead, the don't-fuck-with-me look I walk around with, and the muscles that I spend several hours a week in the gym for people think twice before approaching me. Well, they usually did.
Working security at bars and clubs wasn't a bad gig, although I preferred getting to be out on the streets intimidating and bringing in criminals, but having women throw themselves at me got old. Don't get me wrong – I love women as much as the next red-blooded guy – but these weren't the type of women that I was interested in. The women that frequented these clubs were usually wearing too little, trying too hard, and only saw me as a piece of meat to take home for the night or a healthy bank account. Rangeman was a highly successful company, and our reputation in the community made a lot of women try to snag us. Unfortunately, that made it hard for me to ever meet a quality woman. I'd had more one-night stands than I could count in my teens and early-twenties, but that didn't really interest me anymore.
I was pulled from my reflections on the state of my life by a woman who "accidentally" bumped into me in an obvious ploy to try to get my attention. I just steadied her back on her feet and gave her a look that told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn't interested. Fraternizing with the patrons was strictly forbidden but I wouldn't be interested even if it wasn't.
My eyes continued to scan the room but there wasn't anything of interest or concern going on. I stretched my neck from side-to-side and bounced on my toes for a minute. I was feeling antsy and considering asking the door man to switch with me when this cute little thing walked through the door. She was around five foot seven, if I had to guess, and looked to be around 130 pounds. She had curly brown hair and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. She was dressed more conservatively than most of the clientele here and I immediately took notice. She looked hotter in her denim skirt, blue tank top, and sandals than anyone else I'd seen all night. While most of the women were obviously on the prowl, she just looked confident and comfortable.
My desire to work the door was forgotten as I watched her approach the bar and hug another woman. She took a stool next to the woman she'd hugged and ordered a drink. I forced my eyes away to sweep the room; my boss would have me on the mats to mete out his own brand of discipline if something were to happen because I was falling down on the job. My attention returned to her every few minutes, though, and I watched as she and her friend talked and laughed. Her smile lit up the room, and I was frustrated that I was on the clock and couldn't approach her. The guys would give me so much shit if they knew that I was obsessing over watching this woman. While I had outgrown my womanizing ways, many of them haven't yet. They wouldn't understand why this beautiful girl-next-door had me standing at attention. Hell, I didn't understand it myself, and I probably never would given that the odds were good that I would never see her again after tonight.
Steph's POV
I smiled when I saw Mary Lou sitting at the bar and embraced her in a huge hug. Mary Lou and I have been best friends since kindergarten, and tonight was a much-needed girls' night out. Mary Lou was married to her high school sweetheart and stayed home with their kids. I was divorced from my lying, cheating ex-husband and just the thought of having kids made me break out into hives. For that matter, the thought of being married again wasn't particularly appealing either. I'd done that once and found my ex-husband banging my arch-nemesis on our dining room table before I'd even changed my name on my driver's license.
That brings me to today. I was happily divorced and didn't feel any particular need to have a man in my life. Of course I'd like to find someone nice to share things with, but I hadn't met any strong contenders for that title. My mother had a near-constant parade of bachelors at dinner in hopes of marrying me off (again!) but I wasn't having anything to do with it. My personal favorite was when she had Joe Morelli at the dinner table. Joe and I had a long history. We played choo-choo in his father's garage when I was six and he was eight. Then he talked me out of my pants behind the donut case at the Tasty Pastry when I was sixteen and he was leaving for the Navy. He wrote about it on the men's room walls and I repaid him in kind by running over him with the Buick when he was home on leave. A broken leg wasn't quite enough to get him back for what he did, but I sure as hell felt better.
Mary Lou and I ordered drinks and caught up on life. I was telling her about the latest at work when I caught a glimpse of a mountain of a man standing in the corner and I stopped mid-sentence.
"What is it, Steph?" Mary Lou asked, her eyes going right to the spot where I'd been staring.
"Nothing," I attempted to deflect. I wasn't even sure what exactly it was. Something about him drew me in.
"Don't bullshit me. We've been friends too long for that," Mary Lou chastised me. "Talk!"
"It's just…I don't know. It's going to sound stupid," I hedged.
"Try me," she pressed.
I sighed and finally gave in. "Be subtle. See the bouncer in the corner?"
Mary Lou turned casually and looked at where I was pointing and then looked back to me. "Huge guy, muscles on top of muscles, spiky blonde hair, blue eyes, dimples, big scary tattoo on his forehead?" she asked, and I nodded. "What about him?"
"I can't explain it," I said quietly. "Something about him just calls to me. He just looks so…" I trailed off.
"Scary?" Mary Lou supplied.
"No!" I corrected her quickly. "Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually."
Mary Lou had just taken off for the restroom when the devil himself slid onto a barstool next to mine and tried to cozy up to me.
"Cupcake, I haven't seen you in a few weeks. You look good," he said as his eyes raked shamelessly up my body. I shuddered, and it wasn't for a good reason.
"Morelli," I gritted out. "I suggest you find someone else to bother."
He paid no attention to my request and continued to invade my personal space. He reached out and tugged on a curl and I physically flinched. He was too close and it reminded me of that fateful night when I was sixteen.
"Joe, stop it," I said forcefully as I pushed on his chest. Damn him for being so much stronger than me! He wasn't fazed at all. I just hoped Mary Lou came back soon.
