Free Selling Satisfaction by Ashley Beale Page A

my life. "Thanks again for dinner," I tell him when I open the door.
    He meets me in front of the truck and walks towards the entrance of our building beside me. Opening the door, he allows me to go in first. "Not a problem," he replies as I walk past. "I hope you enjoyed yourself."
    "Actually, I did."
    He takes in my smile and gives me one of his own, showing off a hint of a dimple I hadn't noticed before, probably because of his scruff. I'm not sure who this man is, but he is certainly unlike any other guy I've known. Attractive and amiable. He is down to earth, friendly, and... And I shouldn't be having these thoughts.
    "Brenna?"
    "Huh, what?" I hadn't even noticed he said anything to me. I was becoming lost in captivation, which only makes me more content with the rules. I need to go upstairs and shake all of this off. Maybe I need to ask Kandy for a couple extra clients, bring me back to reality. Go on a shopping spree, or a trip by myself. Anything that erases any thoughts I'm having about Everett and his attractiveness.
    With a sweet hint of laughter, he repeats himself. "I asked... what day next week would you be free to go fishing?"
    "Wait, you're still going with the fishing thing?"
    He almost questions himself, but tries to confidently say, "Well... yeah."
    I huff out in frustration. "I don't have to touch or eat any fish, do I?"
    "No." The hint of amusement in his voice warms up things it shouldn't. "I wouldn't dare."
    I ignore his sarcasm and accept that I can do this and it'll be all okay. I had a relaxing time tonight. He wasn't pushy, he didn't ask questions I couldn't handle, and we've both made it clear more than once we're not to cross lines with one another. I nod my head in reply. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Chapter Eight
Everett
    With all the relationships I've had, I've never experienced anyone like Brenna. She's mysterious, feisty, funny, and independent. Everything about her is tantalizing, and I can sense myself wanting far more than a friendship with her. It's apparent that that probably will never happen- I've honestly never met anyone who has walls built from concrete and steel the way she does.
    Being in my line of work, I know that is usually a large telltale sign that something bad has happened in her past. Something more than a horrible break up. Usually an abusive relationship. It explains why she hasn't openly admitted her last name, doesn't want me to find her online, got uncomfortable when her home state was mentioned, and won't get too close. Among other things.
    I don't like the thought of any person ever putting their filthy hands on her. If I ever find the son of a bitch that caused her the fear she has about trust and relationships, I swear I'll make sure he is inches from his life, begging and pleading for me to leave him alone. I'll make him fear each morning and every night and all the minutes in between. No fucking asshole should ever touch a female.
    My body shakes at the thought. I don't even fucking know if that is what happened to her, it's just the greatest possible answer. Which is why I haven't pushed for more from her. Little hints here, and random questions there, and eventually I'll figure it out.
    I could always go into work and pull up her file, figure out where she came from. Who she is. Everything publicly- and even some private information- but I won't. At least not yet. I want to give her the chance in telling me everything. I want her to trust me in time, open up to me, confide in me, whether as a friend… or more.
    "Fuck," I whisper-shout to no one except the empty walls in my boring condo. I need to stop stressing about Brenna.
    It's not easy- not with the way she dressed tonight- or any time I've seen her. Tight nightgowns that show off her hard nipples though the sheer material, or tiny bikinis that leave far too little to the imagination, tight jeans that let me know she must definitely do squats. Fuck! I'm getting all hot and bothered.
    I turn on the water to my