Catching Sam: Book 2 of 5: The MacDonald Brothers by Emily Matthews (best mystery novels of all time TXT) 📗

left with. Annie couldn’t have known he’d ask her to dinner, so there was no chance this was a setup. The evening seemed totally normal, and he didn’t get many of those.

Of course, walking her to the doorstep wasn’t what broke the rules. He’d planned to take it slow and only kiss her goodnight. He was unprepared for the raw, naked lust that had reared up and gripped him by the balls. She’d all but caught fire in his arms, and even though he was going home to a cold shower, it was still the hottest encounter he’d ever had with a woman.

He leaned his head back on the cab’s headrest and closed his eyes, replaying the evening. He was used to people sucking up to him and only telling him things they thought he wanted to hear. Women always laughed at his jokes, batted their eyelashes a lot, and hung on his every word. Dinner with Annie had been entirely different.

No coy looks. No courtesy laughs. She didn’t even crack a smile at what he thought was his best joke. Instead, she’d looked at him and raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is that all you’ve got? Best of all, she’d called him out on his shit and said something when she disagreed with him. And insisting on paying for dinner? It was irritating and refreshing at the same time. Nowadays, his family, Phil, and his business partner, Matthew, were the only people who spoke their mind around him.

He’d grown tired of playing by the Rules. He wanted to stick his neck out and see what he’d been missing. What if the woman of his dreams was waiting for him, but he’d never meet her because of the stupid rules?

Well, he couldn’t go back now. What was done was done. If there were consequences, he’d deal with them.

The driver pulled up to his gated neighborhood and tapped in the code to enter. In another half-mile, he did the same at Sam’s driveway. The gates swung open, and he eased his way through, stopping on the other side to make sure they closed completely before continuing. Maybe a second gate was a bit much, but better safe than sorry. Everyone and their dog had the code to the neighborhood gate, which rendered it essentially useless. Only a handful of people knew Sam’s code.

Ahead, the glow of porchlights lit up the mansion he called home. A cobblestone walkway led to an oversized portico, where an ornate chandelier hung above a forty-foot, rarely used, front door. Bright floodlights highlighted monstrous white columns that stood guard along the front of the house. All this space and just him who lived here. The thought depressed him. What a waste.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Steve. Jake left me high and dry,” Sam said as Steve pushed the button clipped to the taxi’s visor to open the multi-car garage.

“No problem. That is what you pay me for.”

He parked the cab next to a sleek, black SUV, and they both got out. Steve had been Sam’s personal driver for about five years. He was a retired state patrol lieutenant and Jake had introduced them saying they could help each other out. Steve had gotten the short end of the stick in a divorce and would benefit from a place to live and the extra income, and Sam had been complaining about downtown parking and wasting time in traffic for years. Sam had resisted the idea at first, thinking it was pretentious to have a personal driver, but hiring Steve had turned out to be a win/win for both of them.

“Been a long time since we’ve had this old girl out, huh?” Sam ran his hand along the hood of the cab. “I was actually thinking of painting it black and putting a ride share sticker on it. Would you rather be a fake Uber driver? Or a fake cab driver?”

Steve laughed. “Makes no difference to me. I’ll drive anything.”

“I’m not one of those weird, eccentric, rich assholes because I have my own cab, am I?” Sam asked thoughtfully. He’d purchased it on a whim after taking a few sketchy rides in real taxis.

“Nah. When you have me start tasting your food before you eat it, I’ll worry,” said Steve with a smile.

They were pretty good friends, but Steve knew better than to ask Sam about the woman. He was paid just as much for his discretion as he was for his driving skills.

“If I need to go anywhere tomorrow, I’ll drive myself. You don’t need to be on call.”

“Sounds good. Have a good evening.” Steve tipped his head and went out the back door. He lived in the guest house not too far from the garage.

Sam left the garage and walked through the covered walkway to the main house. Upon entering, the lights came on automatically, and a soft, feminine voice welcomed him home and asked if the temperature was comfortable.

“Temperature’s fine, Sophie. Turn KING 5 news on in the living room, please.”

“Very good, sir. Turning on KING 5 news now,” the voice in the ceiling confirmed just as he heard the TV come on in the next room. He grabbed a beer from the enormous, stainless steel refrigerator, used the handle on a kitchen drawer to pop the top, and went to veg out. He rarely watched TV but did try to catch the news every so often.

Plopping down on the smooth, leather sofa, he took a swig from the bottle and looked around. To his right was a wall of windows that showcased a spectacular view of Lake Washington. A fancy marble fireplace, high ceilings, and crazy-overpriced furniture filled the rest of the room. All this money. All this stuff. And no one to share it with.

Usually, he kept busy traveling, doing charity work, and, of course, working. Work had always been his primary focus in life. He’d poured his heart and soul into the company, and it was doing spectacularly, but