Page 5 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
Chapter Three
The Night Before…
“Finally got sprung from the ivory tower!” His honorary brother Ethan Case greeted him cheerfully the moment Zach stepped into Garner’s Sports Bar & Grill for his welcome-home party. Zach hadn’t been home in two years. First because he worked in Colorado and spent holidays with his ex and, when that ended, he threw himself into his work and traveled to Indonesia for his research. He’d hoped to make it home last Christmas for Jake’s wedding (another honorary brother), but he’d been in Indonesia and contracted dengue fever right before the trip home.
He smiled and took in the face of the brother he’d missed the most. Ethan had the same dirty blond hair with some spikes in front, and sharp blue eyes with a few more lines etched into his face. They were the same age, thirty-four, and grew up in the same foster home, looking out for each other, each in their own way. Ethan made sure Zach didn’t get his ass kicked; Zach made sure Ethan passed all of his classes.
“Eth,” he managed over the lump in his throat.
“Professor.” Ethan gave him a quick one-armed hug around the neck. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”
He made his way to the bar through the crowd, mostly the guys he’d grown up with, the Campbell brothers and the ragtag collection of guys like him with troubled childhoods that had all found each other through the Police Athletic League. Joe Campbell, his honorary dad, had been their coach, staunch advocate, and friend. Mad Campbell, his “little sister,” was also here with a large group of women friends he’d never seen before. He’d been out of the loop too long. Last time he’d been home, Mad only had guy friends.
Ethan tapped the bar. “Let’s get this man a beer.”
The bartender and manager of the place, Josh Campbell, grinned and served Zach a beer on tap before saying quietly, “Good to have you back home.”
The quiet sincerity in Josh’s voice hit Zach like a thump to the chest. He meant it with deep affection. Growing up all close in age, he’d been tight with Josh, his twin Jake, Ethan, and Marcus. Why hadn’t he made time to come home to the only family he’d ever known? Why had he let his ex’s family take precedence? Or his work?
Because you’re a lone wolf.
His ex, Dr. Muriel Hapsburg, a respected professor in the psychology department at the University of Colorado, where they both worked, had pegged him with the label a week after they broke up. Their fallout had been one of those put-up-or-shut-up moments. She’d given him an ultimatum after a year of dating to either marry or break up. His gut said no to marriage. He’d explained it wasn’t her. He couldn’t picture spending the rest of his life with anyone. She’d returned to his apartment the following week with a box of his things and a small speech that now felt prophetic.
“I’m not angry,” she’d said. “I’ve had some time to process and I understand. Because of your childhood wounds, chosen vocation, and particular interest in observing distant communities, it’s clear to me you’re a lone wolf. My parents agree. Just do the next woman a favor and don’t lead them on with anything long-term. You’ll only ruin it.”
He’d given it some thought, weighing in the fact that her parents were also respected psychologists and he’d spent a lot of time with them, and realized Muriel was right. His whole life made sense in this lone-wolf framework. There was no use denying who he was at heart. But even a lone wolf sometimes returned to their pack. So here he was, back in Connecticut.
He reached across the bar and clasped Josh’s hand warmly. “I won’t wait so long next time.” His voice came out hoarse. It wasn’t like him to be so emotional. He prided himself on his ability to detach and observe. Something he’d learned as a kid and had served him well in his work as an anthropologist. When you’re a nine-year-old repeat runaway, life can do that for you. Yup, lone-wolf behavior went way back. But something about being home again got to him.
Josh gave Zach’s beard a tug. “Look at you with a beard. That a tribal thing?”
He rubbed his beard. “It’s easier in the field not to worry about shaving.”
Josh stared at him and slowly shook his head. “You wear it well.”
“Thanks.” And then he was surrounded by his honorary brothers boisterously greeting him, pounding him on the back, joking around with him, all of them hyped up with the energy of the gang getting back together. The only one missing was Joe, their honorary dad, who was babysitting his two-year-old granddaughter, Viv, tonight. Zach would be meeting him for dinner tomorrow. He hadn’t met Viv yet, though he knew what she looked like. He kept current with everyone, filing the facts away in his head. He texted, emailed, and occasionally Skyped.
Zach sipped his beer, the chatter of the party swirling around him. He was home on a year-long sabbatical to work on his book—the culmination of four years of fieldwork on the forest-dwelling communities on the islands off Indonesia. He’d figured his family would keep him from turning into a complete hermit. He probably wouldn’t spend the whole year here, though. He was expecting his application for a two-year senior research fellowship at the Asia Research Institute in Singapore to come through soon. It was a competitive position, but he was a frequent visitor to the institute and the staff knew him and his work. He could continue writing his book there, closer to professionals in a variety of disciplines that could bring broader perspective to his work. So he’d spend a handful of months here, two years there starting early January, maybe back to Colorado, maybe he’d stay in Singapore. Or somewhere else. Couldn’t tie a lone wolf down.
He took a pull on his beer. The important thing was that he was intellectually challenged. Speaking of, he mentally reviewed possible angles he could take to shape his book into a nonfiction narrative that would get more eyes on it than just academia. He’d love for the general public to take an interest in his work, which was particularly focused on Indonesia, but also the entire Southeast Asia region.
“Hi!” a feminine voice said loud enough to quiet his rambling thoughts.
He looked down at a gorgeous petite blonde with big blue eyes, a cute button nose, and a beaming smile. Her fair skin was smooth, flawless, glowing with good health, and her purple dress showed off tremendously sexy curves—a perfect hourglass shape. All the classic signs that indicated attractiveness in a woman who could produce viable offspring. Not that he was looking to reproduce, but biology worked for a reason. In keeping with his primitive instincts, the blood rushed through his veins, reminding him it had been way too long. Not since last summer, damn, a year now, when things had gone to hell with his ex.
He pushed that sour memory from his mind. Then he squared his shoulders for the prominent chest thrust and gazed directly into her bright blue eyes. His educational background gave him an advantage with women once he understood—no matter the culture or era—courtship was a dance choreographed by biology. He dropped his voice to the deep tone that signaled domination, a key indicator of a worthy protector and provider for the young he had no intention of producing. “Hello.”
“You aretheman,” she said in the most adorable pickup line ever. “I’ve been looking for you.”
He studied her for a moment, taking in her sexy self, before giving her a slow smile as he leaned closer. “Yeah? Where’ve you been looking?”
She lifted both hands and spread her fingers wide. “Everywhere.”
Entertained, he kept asking questions. “Where’s everywhere?”
She tossed her jaw-length hair, which bounced around a bit. “Singles mixers, the hospital, here at the bar.”
“Hospital?”
