Reluctantly Alpha (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 8) Read online

  Fuck, it felt good to want someone that way.

  “Mr. Sutton?” she asked, a small frown wrinkling the skin between her brows.

  “That’s me.” He closed the door behind him with more force than he’d meant to.

  She held a hand out in greeting. Heat spread through him as he wrapped his hand around hers. Small, delicate, but with a firm, confident grip. Too many images of where he’d like that hand to wander flashed through his mind. He released her hand and told himself to calm down.

  “Everyone is so excited about your visit. Since you’re here early, would you like a tour of the campus? As an alumni myself, there’s a level of personal pride I feel whenever I introduce someone to it.”

  She can introduce me to whatever she wants to. Consider me all in.

  There was a time when he would have shared his thoughts with her, but he’d received a year of tutelage on how and why to keep them to himself. What would Bradford say? “If we have the time, I see no problem with that.”

  She gave him the sweetest smile. “Speaking of time, I was wondering if you’d be willing to squeeze in some for our school’s soccer team. They are equally thrilled you’re here and there is very little crossover between the drama and athletic departments.”

  “Meet them or give a speech?” One he could do. The other he wasn’t prepared for.

  She searched his face before saying, “Nothing formal. Just a little motivational talk. Like any other group of children, they could benefit from hearing about good sportsmanship and the importance of taking pride in the gifts of others as well as their own.”

  “I can’t see that happening today.” Yeah, no. It’s not like I never went to school. Sounds like you have some douchebag kids in need of reining in. I would love to help you with them, but you should have called ahead so Claire could have written an appropriate speech. You do not want the one my high school football coach used to give us. Something tells me no one has ever threatened to run these kids into the ground so hard their nuts get grass burn.

  Her lips pressed together in a straight line. It shouldn’t have been a sexy move, but it made Connor want to kiss all that starch right out of her. “Of course. I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s start the tour in the main building. If we’re quick we can get out before the hallways fill with students.”

  Her tone was polite, but her body language was screaming something much less friendly. Not the reaction he was used to from women. He couldn’t have offended her, he’d barely spoken.

  The smile she gave him as she opened the door to the building was forced. If he knew her better he would have said something funny or acted the idiot until she relaxed and laughed. This wasn’t the place for that, so he followed her without speaking.

  The tour felt a little like a sales pitch, which was odd since he was too old to enroll and didn’t have children. Still, the classrooms were nice. The cafeteria was bright and clean. She went into great detail about the anticipated improvements to the technology department.

  Just as she’d promised, they were out of the building before the first bell rang. He followed her down a winding park-like path to a hill with a bronze statue of children playing. His attention wandered as she gave him an unabridged history of the school. She’d talked long enough that his initial boner was a distant memory.

  Yes, she’s beautiful.

  Her ass—perfection.

  Her voice . . . addictive to listen to.

  The topics she chooses to discuss? Total snore fest.

  “There’s a test at the end of this,” she joked as if realizing his mind had wandered.

  “Sorry, I can only remember facts about things I’m interested in.” Oh, shit, did I just say that out loud? I mean, it’s true. And if she knew me, she would be laughing because she’d know I said it mostly as a joke aimed at myself because of my painfully short attention span.

  She is not fucking smiling.

  This is where I’d normally roll over and apologize—like a Labrador offering my belly up for a rub.

  Because I’m nice.

  Too nice.

  Not today, lady. Today I’m badass.

  It’s not my fault you think a forty-five-minute monologue about people no one has ever heard of is a good choice of how to spend our time together. I thought you might be the one, but my cock has been wrong before.

  It once thought dating Mary Ellen was worth testing how well her father could shoot. Luckily he only took out the tires of my car.

  There was also the time it convinced me a pro boxer would understand that his little sister was neither a virgin nor shy about what she wanted. All I did was say yes and give her a fun night. Did that really merit the ass-kicking he tried to give me?

  So, sure, you’re incredible.

  Sexy as all hell.

  And pissed at me now.

  You know what? Get in line. People need to relax. I’m not that bad.

  You could have had an amazing time with me.

  Possibly life . . . I mean, for a second there, I imagined the adorable kids we’d have together. But if you’re looking for an apology, you’re not getting one.

  I’ve got a speech memorized, and you’ve just reminded me why that’s all that will come out of my mouth today.

  Wow, what a dick.

  A lot of what she did to fundraise for Reemsly involved interacting with wealthy people. Some of them were down-to-earth, no different than they would have been if they had much less money. Some thought what they had was due to divine intervention or proof that they were more deserving of it. Very few were crass enough to show how superior they felt.

  Not Connor Sutton.

  If the Barringtons were anything like him, no financial gift would be worth having them enroll. There has to be a better way to get the kind of funding Mr. Svete thinks we need.

  She would have loved to tell him that, but she was working on very little sleep, and if she started to say what she was thinking she wasn’t sure she could stop.

  On the drive home from school the day before, she’d asked Whitney about what had happened to him during PE class. He’d claimed nothing had happened. She’d told him she knew about the soccer game, his goal, and what Keaton had done.

  “It won’t happen again,” Whitney had said in a quiet tone that had broken Angelina’s heart.

  “I’m not saying you did anything wrong, Whitney. I’m saying I know what happened. You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” he’d said before taking out his tablet and popping in his earbuds.

  She’d tried to talk to him one more time after dinner. He’d gone to his room to read. After knocking on his door, she’d walked in and sat on the edge of his bed. “No one should ever touch you. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  He’d shaken his head. “Don’t say anything, Mom. I already don’t fit in. You’ll just make it worse.”

  His comment had rocked through her. “Make it worse? And what do you mean you don’t fit in? Your grades are excellent. Your test scores are some of the highest. There’s no reason you couldn’t be valedictorian if you apply yourself. That’s what all of your teachers tell me.”

  Without meeting her gaze he said, “Stanford has an online high school. That’s my goal.”

  “No, it’s not,” she’d said. She’d known he was having a rough year, but he had friends at Reemsly. Didn’t he? He used to. “You can’t want that. You love Reemsly.”

  He’d turned away from her, pulling a blanket up and over him as he did. “Promise me you won’t say anything to my teachers, Mom. And don’t talk to the coach.”

  When she hadn’t answered immediately, he’d lowered the blanket and glared at her.

  “I always do what you say, Mom. Even when I don’t like it. When do I get a say in what I want?”

  Her breath had caught in her throat then because what he wanted and what she wanted for him were directly at odds. She wanted to protect him. How could she promise not to
?

  She’d blinked back tears and given his leg a pat. “We’re both tired. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow, okay?”

  He hadn’t answered.

  She’d leaned down and given his head a kiss. “I love you.”

  His expression had softened. “I love you too, Mom.”

  “We’ll figure this out.”

  He’d nodded and turned away again.

  So, yeah, she hadn’t slept.

  And, sure, she might have talked nonstop about the history of Reemsly because her nerves were shot, and she’d wanted to say something . . . anything that would change Connor Sutton’s mind about talking to the soccer team.

  Why would I have thought for one minute that I could make this man care about anything beyond himself?

  The longer they stood there without speaking, the more her temper rose. Just who did he think he was? Yes, he was good-looking. Not her type, but a lot of women found his square jaw, wide shoulders, and towering physique sexy.

  Sadly, he’d only reinforced her opinion that the better looking a man was the less attractive his personality was. She wasn’t drawn to flash. Muscles? Flat abs? Overrated. His short blond hair and beard looked low maintenance, but he probably spent hours in front of a mirror admiring both.

  If one was in doubt about what was important to him, all they had to do was look at the kind of car he drove. Total compensation vehicle. Sure, he looked amply endowed below the belt as well, but probably stuffed his tighty-whiteys with a sock.

  And his watch? A six-figure vanity purchase. Not original, but it went with his overpriced suit and look-at-how-rich-I-am shoes.

  A person could have money without shoving it down everyone’s throat.

  Lost in her thoughts as she was, she didn’t realize Mr. Svete had approached them until she heard his voice. “Mr. Sutton, it’s a pleasure to welcome you to Reemsly.”

  Connor turned to face him, but neither smiled nor greeted him. He simply looked at him as if he had no idea who he was.

  Mr. Svete seemed put off by it for a second, then held out his hand and introduced himself. “Mr. Svete. Headmaster.”

  Connor shook his hand, and nodded once before pocketing his hands.

  Mr. Svete cleared his throat. “I see you’re getting the grand tour. I hope Miss Kroll has shown you our state-of-the-art gymnasium. Not only have we added an indoor track, but the pool is up to Olympic standards.”

  “Fascinating,” Connor said without emotion.

  Watching Mr. Svete uncharacteristically at a loss for what to say would have been amusing if Angelina’s job couldn’t be terminated at his whim. She stepped in to say, “We were just about to make our way to the drama building.”

  Just then a man caught Angelina’s attention. Dark suit. Mirrored glasses. Standing off by himself watching them from about a hundred feet away. “Is that your security detail, Mr. Sutton?”

  Connor’s head snapped toward where she’d pointed and he smiled. “Oh. Yes. Sure. He’s with me.”

  “He’s welcome to join the tour,” she said.

  “Hold on, I’ll ask him if he wants to.” With that, Connor jogged away.

  Mr. Svete’s indrawn breath was audible. “I’m not impressed, Miss Kroll, and it doesn’t appear that Mr. Sutton is either.”

  Shit.

  “The day isn’t over yet, Mr. Svete.”

  “Don’t disappoint me, Miss Kroll,” he said before he walked off.

  Angelina took a deep breath, told herself she’d faced tougher challenges, and found her smile again. This isn’t the world’s shittiest day. It’s an opportunity to shine.

  I can do this.

  Chapter Three

  Connor could have hugged Bradford, he was that happy to see him. He didn’t though. Badasses don’t hug. Instead, he kept his hands at his sides and his voice low. “I’m totally fucking up already, Bradford. You have to get me out of here. I’m going to raise my voice—tell you off. You take your best punch at my head. Make it count. I want to leave in an ambulance.”

  The corners of Bradford’s mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “It is. See that woman over there? She already hates me, and I’ve been careful to say next to nothing to her. The guy with her gives me the creeps. You know how some dogs can sniff out cancer in people?”

  Bradford ran a hand over his face. “Sure.”

  “I have a super fifth sense that tells me when someone has a sick, twisted soul. That man is a horrible person who should not be around children.”

  “You mean sixth sense.”

  “You have it too?”

  “No, forget it. And he’s harmless, not so much as a parking ticket. I wouldn’t put too much stock in your supernatural ability since it hasn’t warned you off of me.”

  Connor frowned. “Not today, but soon, we have to talk about your self-esteem issues. But for right now could we focus on figuring out how to get me out of here?”

  “Twisted-soul-man just walked away, you’re safe.”

  “Good.” Connor glanced over his shoulder to confirm it, then relaxed a bit. His gaze lingered on the woman who looked uncertain if she should wait or join them. “I didn’t know I had a type until I met her, but isn’t she perfect?”

  Bradford clapped a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “She’s out of your league, pal.”

  “Is that even a thing?” Connor looked her over again. “I’m sure I’m not, with my looks and your personality.”

  “You just said she hates you.”

  Did Bradford not understand women? “The kind of hate that always ends with sex, yes. But there’s a problem: I can’t have sex with someone while I’m being you. What if she fell for me? Would I always have to be you? No offense, but it’s not much fun.”

  “So, you just assume that no matter how she’s acting now she’ll end up wanting to have sex with you?”

  Connor shrugged. “I can’t explain women.”

  Bradford laughed. “I need to watch this play out. In your mind every woman wants to fuck you?”

  “Nooooo, but I sense when one does.”

  “Like a dog sniffing out cancer.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Another fifth sense.”

  “Sixth sense,” Connor corrected, finally getting the joke. “I get it. People already have five senses so my soul detector is a sixth sense which would make this a seventh sense . . .” He started counting off on his fingers the other senses he credited himself with.

  “Tell me about it later.” Bradford gave Connor’s shoulder a shake. “Time to shut up; your friend is walking over.”

  Connor turned his head away and stretched out his facial muscles, schooling them as he’d been taught to before a tough scene. By the time Angelina was standing in front of him again, his face was carefully expressionless again. “Angelina Kroll, this is my . . . bodyguard, Bradford.”

  Bradford’s greeting was a curt nod.

  Unlike most people, Angelina didn’t seem intimidated by the scars or the tattoos. She smiled at him with the openness she’d shown Connor when they’d first met. “Would you like to join us? We’ll be heading to the drama building now.”

  “I’d like that,” Bradford said with a charming smile.

  Hang on.

  Bradford could be charming?

  And she was smiling back?

  Oh, hell no.

  “You should probably stay outside to keep an eye on the cars,” Connor said.

  “The area is secure,” Bradford assured him without taking his eyes off Angelina. “I didn’t go to college so I have to admit I’m a little intimidated to be here.”

  Her face softened and she put a hand on his forearm. “You shouldn’t be. Education is a lifelong journey, not a race. Yes, these children are lucky to be receiving a good foundation, but it’s what a person does with what they’re given that matters.”

  “I’m always worried I’ll slip up and say something that reveals what I don’t k
now.”

  Bradford, I’m going to kick your ass for this.

  Seriously. You do not get to be me while I’m you.

  Angelina’s hand remained on Bradford’s forearm. “I remember feeling the same way when I first came to this school. I was sixteen and had made more bad choices than good. We had the most incredible headmaster back then. He taught me that no one is better than anyone else. Peel back the layers of differences . . . whether they’re financial, racial, cultural, or sexual . . . we’re all the same. Everyone is simply trying to do the best they can, and Reemsly’s mission statement is about helping all of our students see that and become the best version of themselves rather than trying to make them all the same. You would have fit in perfectly here.”

  “That’s kind of you to say. You’ve really put me at ease, thank you.” Oh, my God, could Bradford lay bullshit on any thicker? “I’d love to see the drama building.”

  “Fantastic.” Angelina dropped her hand and turned to Connor. All warmth left her eyes. “Ready?”

  Connor grunted.

  When Angelina turned to start walking, Connor pointed a finger at Bradford then fisted his hand.

  Bradford flashed a smile.

  He’s testing me. He doesn’t think I can get Angelina to want to fuck me. Connor laced his fingers in front of him and stretched in anticipation.

  Watch and learn, Bradford.

  They were about to enter the drama building when Connor would have sworn he heard Angelina swear under her breath. “Mrs. Tellier. You caught us just in time. We’re heading inside to meet Mrs. Kleplin’s class.”

  An older woman in a perfectly pressed dress suit and flats walked up with a huge smile on her face. “Mr. Connor Sutton. It’s a pleasure to meet you. May I call you Connor?”

  “Sure,” Connor said just before she enveloped him in a hug.

  “I’m a huge fan.”

  She shook Bradford’s hand, but didn’t take her eyes off Connor as she did.

  No creep vibe, though. Connor was picking up that she thought he was hot, but a lot of women did, and he didn’t hold it against them.

  “Could I have a moment?” Mrs. Tellier asked.