All Chapters of When Mates Collide: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

* * *Bonnie stared at the man, tongue-tied, and watched as his pale green eyes peered back at her with an expression she couldn't understand. Was he surprised, modified, or angry? His thick, dark, wavy hair looked tousled. His strong set of square jaw was set in a tight clench. And his sexy lips... Damn! Those lips looked like they were made for bad, bad things. He wore an expensive suit, complete with a tie. Bonnie knew his suit was freaking expensive because she was very much her father's daughter. What she couldn't fathom though, was why he was looking at her so darkly. If she was to guess, he had probably caught her gawking at Joan's panties and now thought she was some kind of pervert. Shit! Why did she always have bad luck with good-looking men? Bonnie cleared her throat. "Hmm... Err, what you saw back there... What you saw me looking at... Shit! What I mean to say is it's not how it looks." Lord! She was stammering. How convenient. "And what, pray to te

* * *After what felt like forever, the cab driver finally pulled up in front of Joan's address. Bonnie softly woke Joan and aided her into the building as quickly as their legs could carry them. Using the keys in Joan's purse, Bonnie unlocked Joan's apartment, tucked an already sleeping Joan into bed, and then went into the kitchen to get some aspirin and water for Joan. Bonnie contemplated staying over till morning, but then she remembered she had a client's work she had to deliver first thing tomorrow and knew she couldn't stay. Bonnie locked Joan's apartment with a spare key and took the elevator to the lobby, wondering if she'd get a taxi this late. The taxi driver that had brought her hadn't been an option if not, she would have just asked him to wait. But doing that had been a no-no for her because Bonnie couldn't help but feel like something was very off with him the moment he started asking her personal question. Bonnie walked out of the building and glanced around the dimly

* * *Elliott rubbed his head. If he didn't do something to calm Nate quickly, things were going to turn shitty. “Alright. Easy, boy. We’re just a little surprised, and worried about you. About all of us.” Elliott threw a clean, white bar towel to Nate who caught it at the same time Darrell rose from the couch, walked towards him, and held out his hand to Nate who quietly placed the broken glass in his hand. Satisfied, Darrell processed to pick up the remaining pieces of glass from the floor and threw them in the trash next to him. “Give me the towel for a second,” he said to Nate and Nate handed it to him with a grimace as Darrell began wiping the blood off his hand. They were treating him like a child and although he didn't like it, it gave him a weird but comforting feeling. “It's okay, I've got it, buddy," Nate finally said and collected the towel from Darrell. Darrell smiled and picked up the trash can while Nate proceeded to wrap his nasty wound up. Darrell walked away

* * *An hour later, Bonnie walked into the restaurant looking and feeling more like herself. She planned on telling Joan everything, but the words kept getting stuck. It seemed so dark a thing to haunt a beautiful morning with and she didn’t want to bother Joan about it until she had all the information she needed. Putting it behind her, for now, seemed a more positive, proactive approach, so she smiled extra wide and suggested a toast instead. Joan raised her glass, waiting. “To both of us getting home safely,” Bonnie said. Joan paused and clinked the champagne flutes together with a shrug. “We could toast to that every day.” Bonnie took a sip. “Mmm.” “Right?” Joan licked the pulp from her top lip and set the glass down on top of her menu. “What have you got cooked up this week?” Happy for the change of subject, Bonnie took another sip and set her glass down as she answered, “Well, I’ve hired some teens to do a Twitter campaign for Mac Designs.” “That clothing store in the Cros

Nate watched her yelling at him. Of course, she was scared; why hadn’t he thought of that before showing up like this? But he couldn’t tell her the truth. She had him in a bad spot and she didn’t even know it. She’d looked at him like he was the problem like she was scared of him. What could he tell her? I’m the one who saved you? That guy will never bother you again, or anyone else–I made sure of that. I know where you live because I brought your things back to you. That bag in your hands, I know what’s in it. I studied everything in the purple wallet you’ve stuffed too many receipts into for it to close. I even know you forgot to take your pill yesterday. When she left, didn’t turn around or look back, he walked to the nearest building and leaned against it, watching her, oblivious to the many, many New Yorkers walking past him enjoying the bright Indian summer day. He pulled out his phone and called Elliott. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “You scare her off or something? Wh