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All Shook Up

Page 2

by Ashley Bostock


  He clicked the cuff shut and set them back on her table. If he dared reached for a vibrator, she was going to scream.

  “I’ll give you back your deposit. Assuming everything is left in ready condition.” His arm went out and grasped a little product that could easily be confused with a computer mouse. She reached out too, hoping to grab the item before he did so she wouldn’t have to scream.

  “What’s this?” he asked as he gripped the vibrator in his hand.

  Dear God, why her? Why did the most-gorgeous, arrogant man alive get dropped into her lap with the most-awful news of her life? And now this?

  “It’s…well, it’s a vibrator.” Jillian swallowed.

  “Is that so?” Cole asked. He turned his head examining the oval product, seeming completely indifferent to what part of the anatomy it was used on. He pushed the button and it buzzed to life. His eyes widened. “It’s powerful.”

  “Very much so.” She blushed. “It has different levels, too.” She reached over and pressed the button twice causing the toy to pulse to a higher degree. They stood like that for a few seconds, her hovering so close to him she could smell his peppermint breath and he angled against her as the oval egg vibrated in his large palm.

  He pressed the button a few times and the product went still. This time when he met her gaze, his eyes glinted with something naughty and inviting and she refused to believe that was the case. She tried to ignore the tingle in her toes. He was in a suit, for crying out loud. Ready to kick her and her boutique out of the place they’d been in for the past three and a half years.

  “Mind if I take a look upstairs at the office and patio?” he asked as he set the egg down.

  “I don’t mind. You’re the owner. Do what you’d like.” She shoved the intimate moment away hating the reality of what was going to happen to her and The Peekeasy. All her inventory in the basement, as well as everything on display, including the Pleasurable Selfies corner. Dear God, she was going to have to work at lightning speed to try to find something else or she was going to be up to her eyeballs in lace, leather and dildos.

  He stepped back and allowed her to move ahead. Even though it was only four in the afternoon and she didn’t normally close the boutique until seven, she locked the front door and turned her sign from OPEN to CLOSED. She could feel his smoldering eyes on her with every step she took and decided the attraction she felt was only because it’d been a while since she had anything close to intimacy in a long time.

  He was a man. In a suit. With extraordinary green eyes that reminded her of some grassy knoll along a river bank. And he had nice, thick eyebrows to go along with his nice, thick fingers. What else did he have that was nice and thick? I’d like to find out. No. She shook the thought from her head.

  “Follow me then,” she said tersely even though she was feeling anything but.

  She gripped the metal railing and made her way up the black set of stairs, with him trailing behind her. She purposefully added more pep into each step she took on the chance that he was appreciating the view. She didn’t work out every day, but her butt and thighs were tight, mostly. There was that little area on her right thigh that didn’t seem to budge no matter what she did but otherwise…

  “It’s pretty bare up here,” Jillian said as she stepped aside. The room was large and open. Like downstairs, the paneling and shelving were done in white trim. Built-in book shelves took up the entire wall opposite of them. A large crystal chandelier hung above her thrift-store-found oak table that she’d taken the liberty of painting a striking silver hue that played well with the railing from the stairs. On the side closest to them was a small kitchenette equipped with a stainless steel mini fridge and matching microwave, a sink and more cabinets.

  “I don’t remember it being so open,” he remarked.

  It still irked her that Cole had come in here, obviously without her knowledge, and got to look around an area she took pride in calling her own. Granted, half the shelves up here were somewhat bare—a few vases, more toys and loads of books that still didn’t take up much space—but it was still hers. She spent more time here than at her home. Tasha clearly hadn’t any qualms about letting him in either, which only fueled Jillian’s anger. Be professional.

  “It helps with the windows opening to the south.” She leaned against the railing and watched as he made his way around the room. He stared intently at the space, checking out the light fixtures, walking along the row of shelves that lined the wall and she guessed, he was giving everything one final look-over since he was the new owner.

  “Can I ask what you plan to do with the place, since you aren’t renewing my lease?” Jillian asked in a quiet voice that didn’t show her anger. Hurt, yes.

  He turned and faced her and that remorseful look was in his eyes once again. “I’m opening a store here.”

  “What kind?” she questioned, already gathering it would be some kind of store based upon its location.

  “It depends. I own a larger corporation that is the parent to a bunch of smaller retail businesses. I specialize in women’s fashion.”

  “What kind of women’s fashion?” she asked through clenched teeth, not liking the general answers.

  A much-too-charming smile graced his face. “All kinds. But I think you’ve hit the nail on the head for what this place is best suited for. Lingerie.”

  Disbelief flooded her entire body. Was he serious? “You’re joking.”

  “No, actually, I’m not.” He had the decency to look away from her.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “How could you do this?”

  “It’s business, Ms. Winters. I’m the owner of Deluxe Posh which, like I said, is a larger corporation that oversees a lot of smaller retail businesses in women’s fashion.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” she said.

  “Good. Then I’m sure you’ve heard of Lacie’s Lingerie. This location is going to be perfect for it. Especially since you’ve already molded it to fit my needs.”

  Chapter Two

  Where was his usual game? For being a business-related endeavor, Cole was sure acting like a puss. What happened to his Golden Rule of Business: Business was business? Meaning no one—family, friend or otherwise—got in the way of his business goals. Which had been great up until the point he met the no-longer-mysterious owner of The Peekeasy.

  Her pink lips full and rounded over even teeth and her lustrous caramel locks swirling around her shoulders as she gazed at him ruefully beneath those sultry eyes of hers; he was a man about to crumble. Who was he? The question was who was she?

  The purchase had been the simplest transaction in history. The owner had agreed to all his terms, even accepting his low-ball offer as well as his demands to close on the property within fifteen days. He’d handed her the check and the building was his. He’d made out like a bandit. After studying the car and foot traffic that flowed in front of The Peekeasy, it was a no-brainer that the building would be perfect for the struggling Lacie’s Lingerie. Lower downtown was booming, and he needed something to get the retail chain back into its former days of glory.

  Unfortunately, it had to be at the sake of The Peekeasy.

  At least at the sake of its current location.

  “You’re going to kick me out so you can put a lingerie store in here?” Jillian asked. “Lacie’s Lingerie? It’s impersonal. It doesn’t belong in LoDo. It’s a franchise.”

  There was both delicacy and strength in her face. She was cute. Even angry. In fact, angry had never looked so good on someone as far as he could tell. “A franchise? It’s privately owned. It’s upscale. Lacie’s Lingerie has a solid reputation for helping customers achieve their most-intimate look.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Women want to feel special. They want to feel like the articles of clothing that are closest to their skin, were made personally for them.” She spoke wistfully, like she was in a daydream, and it took all of Cole’s effort not to be taken in by her natural love of lingerie and its effects on
her clientele. “I know this has to be difficult for you, and truthfully, I hate that I’m doing this, but it’s what I have to do.”

  Her long lashes swept down in a slow blink. “Women don’t want to be the customer wearing the same red corselet as fifty other women. They want to own it. They want to feel as if it were customized for them by a single seamstress. Not by some corporation.” She frowned.

  “Lacie’s Lingerie prides itself on making women feel confident in themselves. We design undergarments that women feel good in—be that at work or at home.”

  Jillian smirked. “That’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Are you done here? I have clientele that need me.”

  After showing Cole the patio balcony in the back of the building, they moved to the main floor. She leaned against the counter and from his angle, he could see the golden skin of her neck and décolleté, barely managing to glimpse the intricate pattern of lace beneath her peach-colored blouse. He enjoyed sparring with her and wasn’t exactly ready to leave yet. Especially when his eyes settled behind her on the vibrator he’d picked up earlier.

  He’d be lying if he said that moment hadn’t turned him on—hadn’t brought up questions regarding her use of the products she sold. The solid thump of her boot tapping the floor brought his attention back to her face. His gaze swept over her body—skinny-jeans that hugged her long legs so well, he wasn’t the least bit ashamed for admiring the view. And the top she wore that showcased her lithe, finely-toned arms. Yoga, if he had to guess. This was Denver, after all, and it seemed like most women hiked, biked or did that barre exercise as well as yoga.

  Aside from being oddly attracted to her, he did feel bad.

  “You don’t have to be hostile. I realize this is going to be a burden for you and you have my sincerest apologies, Ms. Winters.” He’d done a lot of deals in the past and he prided himself on being where he was today because he’d treated every transaction as business. He couldn’t afford to let any emotions get in the way. Sometimes, in the process of his success, there was collateral damage.

  The truth was, she could find another store front. No, it probably wouldn’t be anywhere near downtown, but if she was as good as she believed—and she believed she was, he recognized the look in her eyes—then her clientele would follow her.

  “A burden? This is my life. If I don’t have this, I don’t have…anything.”

  “Everyone has something. I’m sure your husband or boyfriend will prove to be a great deal of support for you.” Boyfriend? Husband? What a schmuck he was. Why even go there? Cole wasn’t anticipating Jillian would like him at this rate so why had he felt the need to edge that into the conversation and hope she’d give him the answer he was looking for.

  “Neither will. And trust me, the outlook is looking bleak,” she said.

  His brows rose. “So you have both?”

  “Both what?” she cocked her head in confusion. “Oh. No.”

  Did he dare ask for clarification?

  “No husband or boyfriend.” She went on in that wonderful low voice of hers, all soft and clear. “But I have a sister.”

  Pain stabbed him in the chest at the word sister. He hated to think about it. Hated to talk about it. Hated all the things that single word entailed.

  Sister.

  What once was.

  Something he had no control over.

  A past he could never change.

  He cleared the lump in his throat. “Well—”

  “What about you?” she interjected. “Since you’re going to be my landlord for the next forty-five days, I should know where I’m going to have to send my check next month.”

  “I don’t handle that. I’ll make sure someone contacts you with the information. In fact, you’ll probably never see me again after this.”

  “Right.” Sarcasm laced her words. “Being the owner of a corporation, I’m sure you have loads of worker bees handling all of your dirty work.”

  “Not all of it. I’m here now, aren’t I?” He shifted his arms across his chest, taunting her. Prolonging his visit. For nothing else, except to enjoy the view. Okay, and the sparring. It wasn’t every day a woman as beautiful and sassy as Jillian Winters had the nerve to stand up to him. To point out what a jerk he was being.

  He kind of liked it.

  “How does it feel? To know that you are single-handedly going to put me out of business? A young woman, who works her ass off and has the desire to succeed. You’re ending it.” She pointed out.

  Unshed tears filled her gray eyes, contradicting her sass and he felt a small part of his carefully-placed armor fall away. You’re ending it. He didn’t want to break this woman’s heart. He really didn’t. He wasn’t that man. Not usually.

  Business was business.

  “I’m sorry. I will have corresponding information sent to you for the rent. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Jillian Winters. Had we met under different circumstances, I have no doubt that we would be great friends.”

  Her pretty little mouth parted as he grabbed his folder off the countertop and made his way out the front door. It was too bad that was going to be the last he saw of her. She was stunning and she was obviously smart; it was a shame they hadn’t met someplace else.

  He pulled his suit jacket off as he walked the downtown streets. It was already May and the weather was showing full signs of summer. He’d grown up in Denver for most of his life so the dry heat was nothing new.

  Cole had created Deluxe Posh from the ground up and even though it was now a multi-million-dollar corporation, it was still his baby. In the beginning, it’d been hard to let go, and farm out different areas of the business without him being in the know on everything. But he managed. Just barely.

  Case in point, the new store front for Lacie’s Lingerie. He could’ve easily had the regional manager of the company find the property and handle the transaction. But Lacie’s was near and dear to his heart for so many reasons that he couldn’t ignore the idea of locating the right property himself.

  Meeting Jillian had been a bonus he hadn’t been counting on. Who he’d expected to find owning a store like The Peekeasy with its sexy lingerie and corner of adult toys that were naughty enough to make any adult squirm, he wasn’t sure. But he knew it wasn’t a young—if he had to guess—late twenty-something woman, with eyes full of passion and a face that was both delicate and strong. He wasn’t expecting his oxygen levels to drop as he trailed behind her around her store, especially when he purposefully engaged her in the conversation about the vibrator.

  He knew what it was. He just wanted to see her blush.

  He wanted to turn her on.

  Easy as that.

  It’d been a while since he’d dated. Since before Francesca. When he hadn’t known what she was going through and by the time he found out, it’d been too late to help. Since then, he’d felt this separation between himself and women. He wanted to give them space. He didn’t want to hurt them. He didn’t want to treat them like he had before – one-night stands no longer sounded appealing.

  His life was divided into two equal parts. There was life before Francesca and then there was life without her. The level of pain in his chest forced him to stop along one of the bridges that crossed over the Platte River.

  Sucking in a deep breath, he watched the water flow beneath him as he thought about how he couldn’t save his own fucking sister. Thankfully, he was saved by the bell when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Then he nearly ran into a jogger that flipped him the bird as he wrangled the phone out and to his ear.

  “Mom, your timing is impeccable.”

  “Did I save you from making a fool of yourself?” she asked humorously.

  “Funny. Can you hear me laughing? No, actually. I almost ran into a jogger.” He continued walking, double-checking that he didn’t stroll into another person’s path again.

  “Did you make it home okay? Where are you? It sounds like you’re stuck in traffic,” she said.

  “No
t in traffic. Just walking to the lot to get my car. I made it fine. Checked out the building and met the tenant whose lease I’m not renewing.” Cole told her as he waited for the white walking man to signal it was okay to cross the street.

  “Are you upset about that? You sound…I don’t know. Guilty, perhaps.” He was very close with his mother, and she could read him like a book so he couldn’t fathom why he was surprised that she’d hit the nail on the head with this one.

  He sucked in another gulp of air. Not renewing Jillian Winter’s lease bothered him, but what bothered him more was that he may be responsible for screwing up her dream. “Yeah, guilty would describe it. She’s probably a few years younger than me. Did I tell you that she runs a five-star lingerie store out of there? The Peekeasy. Cute, right? I can see the same passion and drive in her that I have. And she’s absolutely gorgeous, too,” he added. Because he couldn’t decide if that was the main reason he was feeling wimpish or if it all had to do with the fact the he was stealing her dream. Maybe it was a combination of both.

  “Oh, Cole. Why didn’t you let Raymond deal with this? Isn’t he still in charge of that area?”

  Raymond was the regional manager and yes, in hindsight, Cole should have let him deal with it. Cole stood outside his car, contemplating an answer.

  “The store needs a boost, Ma. Big time. I thought it needed my personal attention which is why I scouted out the place. Now though, after meeting Jillian, I feel like crap. I’m getting in my car now. Dinner still on for tonight? Michael has a dining room at Elway’s. Does that still work for you?”

  “Yes. Before you go, Cole. Let me say one thing.”

  Christ. He knew exactly where this was going. Where it always went.

  “What?” he asked, like a good son would.

  “Getting close to someone doesn’t mean you’re going to hurt them. Emotionally or physically. There was nothing you could have done to protect Francesca.”

  “I should have known, Mom. I was closest to her. I was around her the most. Look, I’ll see you tonight. I gotta go, I’m at the car.” Cole ended the call and leaned against the door of his Maserati, feeling as if someone had punched him in his chest. Francesca’s death was his fault. He could have done something to stop the abuse. Only if he’d found out in time. No, if he’d paid attention to the signs – they were all there. He hadn’t known at the time what he was looking for so he hadn’t been able to be there for her. He was her big brother…he should have sensed something.

 

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