by J. M. Adele
“What’s with you and the new guy?” Jenna broke through the spell Chelsea was under.
“Hm? What? Nothing,” she squeaked, before clearing her throat.
“Oh, yeah. There’s something. You guys keep doing those longing looks across the room. It’s sickening. You do realize attraction is largely a response to a cocktail of hormones and brain chemicals, and the body sizing up an appropriate person to mate with. It’s all about biology. Genes! Not sexy at all. If you want to be a slave to your body, that’s your business, but I’m staying the hell away from the whole sad scenario. The planet simply cannot sustain the current rate of population growth—”
“Jenna, Chelsea …” Thankfully, Matteo broke into Jenna’s rant before Chelsea worked up a migraine. “I’d like you to meet Greyson. He’s my new apprentice. I hope you’ll make him feel welcome, you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”
Not nearly as much as she’d liked to.
Before her vow, that was.
Grey stretched out a hand towards Jenna. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Jenna took the offering, releasing a shy giggle while squirming uncomfortably. Chelsea levelled a disbelieving stare at the pocket rocket as she shrugged and scurried away, unable to comprehend how easily this stranger had crumbled Jenna’s ironclad pragmatism. And thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell of resisting him, if Jenna fell for his charm so easily.
Chelsea’s eyes snapped back to Greyson when she felt the touch of his hand on hers, his fingers grazing the pulse at her wrist as he raised her arm. She twisted in his grip, and pulled their arms down so they were now engaged in a friendly handshake, instead of having his lips anywhere near her skin. Not again.
Feeling dang proud of herself, she lifted her chin, and gave him a genuine smile.
“Welcome to the team. I’ll do my job, you do yours. Try not to suck. And, good luck.”
She pumped their hands a few times, escaping when she saw her campers finally leaving. There, on the table, were a couple of Benjamin Franklins. She clutched them to her chest, a huge smile breaking free, until she spun around and saw that Greyson wasn’t far behind, watching in amusement.
“Whoa, back away, buddy.” She warned, stuffing the money into her pocket.
“That’s not what you said in Alabama.”
“Well, that was a mistake, and a different Chelsea altogether. In Boston, I’m all business.”
“Is that right?”
“Sure is, sugar.”
“Hm …” His eyes scanned her face, thoughtfully, before dropping to watch her hands tugging nervously on her apron’s ties. “Ya know, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I walked in here tonight.”
“Oh? Never seen a Michelin-starred restaurant before?” She crossed her arms and took a step backwards.
“As a matter of fact, no. But that’s not what surprised me.”
He took a step closer, and she could see the pulse jumping in his neck, and smell his scent; freshly showered, if she had to guess, but she’d rather not think about it at all.
“Seeing the intriguing woman I left behind, and thought I’d never see again. That’s what surprised me.” Pinning her under his gray stare, his expression was unreadable, but for the intent sparkle in his eyes.
Her body instantly responded to his call, but her mind screamed, kiss my go to hell.
“The woman you left behind? You make it sound like I was yours to leave. If there’s one thing I’ll never be, it’s yours, or any man’s. Excuse me.”
Pushing past him, she headed to the office in the rear of the kitchen to retrieve her pocketbook. She knocked on the open door before entering, and nodded at Matteo who was sitting at his desk, bifocals perched on the end of his nose. Matteo looked up from his computer screen to offer a smile. He rocked a severe case of hat-hair from wearing his toque blanche all night. His chef’s jacket barely showed a stain. The man was so meticulous.
Taking a hundred out of her pocket, she tossed it on his desk. “Would you mind splitting that between everyone? It’s my last tip for the night.”
He nodded, tucking the note in a cash box.
“You okay if I scoot home now?” Looping the strap of her pocketbook over her shoulder, she searched for her phone while waiting for his answer.
“It’s too late to catch the T. Do you want a ride home?”
She looked at the screen on her phone. Quarter past midnight. Damn. She thought about the hundred still warming her pocket, but squirmed at the thought of wasting it on a taxi fare. She had a trip home for Christmas to pay for, and she wanted to fatten the small nest egg earmarked for big things after graduation.
“How much longer do you plan on stayin’?” she asked, already imagining him with his keys in hand.
He grimaced, and Chelsea’s shoulders dropped before he even spoke. “I have another hour’s worth of work to sort out. Sorry.”
“I’ll take you.”
Her body stiffened, hands clenching on the strap of her bag, and eyelids falling shut in denial of the deep voice coming from the doorway.
Matteo spoke up when she didn’t respond. “Thank you, Greyson. That’s very nice of you. Are you okay with that, Chelsea?”
Er, no. I’m not okay with being stuck in a confined space with Mr. Sex On a Stick.
“Well, actually—”
Dane popped his head in to say goodnight. “I’m taking the girls home. Pete already left. Are you good for a ride, Chels?”
“Yeah, I’m taking her,” Grey confirmed as Chelsea huffed and propped her hands on her hips. He took the opportunity to grasp her elbow and steer her towards the door.
“Like hell—” she protested, but Dane cut her off.
“Making new friends. That’s our Chelsea. You two are adorable together.”
“Traitor,” she hissed over her shoulder, her feet stumbling to keep up with Greyson’s lengthy stride. Dane’s cackle was the last thing she heard before the door shut behind them.
Grey didn’t slow down until they reached his truck. He unlocked the door, and had her in the passenger seat before she could get her wits together enough to plan an escape. The door slammed loudly in her face and she watched, slack-jawed, as he rounded the hood and made himself comfortable behind the wheel.
“What do ya think you’re doin’?”
“Taking you home. Where are we headed?” Revving the engine, he tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel and watched her, waiting for directions.
“I don’t even know you.” She wondered if Jenna’s comment about being stuck in a trunk somewhere would come to fruition, her eyes were wide with fear... and maybe a little excitement. “You could be a serial killer.”
The corners of Grey’s mouth tipped up. “Now you’re worried about me being a serial killer. I’ve been working towards this opportunity for years. I’m not going to stuff up my chances by becoming a suspect in the murder of a co-worker. Plus, I’ve known Matteo for a long time. Do you think he would’ve let me drive you home if he didn’t trust me?”
She slumped back in her seat. “Hmph. Do you even know your way around Boston?”
“Nope. I’ve been here for approximately two and a half hours,” he said, pointing to the time on the truck’s stereo.
She twisted in her seat, reaching for the door handle, but Grey leaned his big body across her lap, pulling it shut.
“Uh, uh, uh. Seat belt on.”
She sucked in a breath as he pulled on the belt and buckled it, brushing her hip in the process.
He grinned, putting the truck in gear and reversed out of the lot, looking both ways in contemplation of which direction to choose. “Hm. Eenie, meanie … left.”
“Wrong.” The word came out in a rush with the air that had been trapped in her lungs.
He pulled the wheel to the right and flicked on the radio. Bon Jovi blasted into the space, fraying her already stretched nerves. Grey turned it down and went back to tapping his thumbs. Chelsea tucked her hands under her thighs. It was safer that way.
She faced the windshield, but kept giving him the side eye, watching his hands and forearms flex as he drove. His presence was impossible to ignore as it filled the cab, engulfing all her senses. His smell, the sound of his thumbs keeping the beat, his quiet humming, and the heat radiating from his body—all of it was amplified, bringing her body to life. She was barely aware of where they were, enough to give directions, remaining focused on him until they reached the house.
“This is it?”
“This is it,” she confirmed, sizing up the house, wondering what he thought of it.
The porch light illuminated the blue front door, and she noticed a glow around the edges of the blind in the living room window. Flaky paint on the siding of the New England style home was a little embarrassing, but hey, it was a student share house—a roof over her head—and she was absolutely thankful for that.
“So, now I know where you work and where you live. I’d say we’re getting pretty personal, don’t ya think?”
Chelsea turned on him, spearing him with the full force of her disapproval. She wanted to slap that shit-eating grin right off his pretty face. Pretty wasn’t the right word. He was ruggedly handsome. Those gray eyes were killer under heavy brows, and against the backdrop of tanned skin and long dark hair. He wore a leather jacket over a snug tee. She turned her face away before she let her eyes drift down to his jean clad thighs.
Reaching for the handle, she managed to exit the car unhindered this time, but the slam of his car door echoed hers. Snapping her gaze across the hood, she shook her head in disbelief.
“Oh, no. No, no, no. I appreciate the ride home, but you are not walking me to the door. Get back in the truck, mister.”
Grey’s grin grew wider. Smart ass.
She took a few steps, Grey copying her movement from the other side of the truck.
Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. “You can’t be serious. What? Are we in middle school now?”
“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t ya? I’m just doing my gentlemanly duty and making sure you get inside all safe and sound. No offense, but this doesn’t look like the best part of town.” He waved a hand at the street before continuing up the steps to wait by the door.
Chelsea waited for a minute with hands clenched and thighs pressed together, feeling more pissed off and turned on than she had in … ever. Goddamn smart ass.
Just as she started to follow, the front door flew open. Dakota stood in her sleep shorts and tank, looking between them in confusion.
“I was wondering if you’d lost your key, but now I see you’ve found someone instead.” Turning to Greyson, she held out her hand. “Hi, there. I’m Dakota.”
“Greyson. Pleased to meet you.” He shook her hand, nodding briefly before fixing his gaze back on Chelsea.
Under the weight of a frown, she watched Dakota flash her eyes and mouth a ‘wow’ while fanning her face. Chelsea had to bite her lips to keep from growling.
“Who’s at the door?” Hannah crowded in behind Dakota, introducing herself to Grey. Within seconds, they’d all disappeared inside, leaving Chelsea gob smacked.
Oh, great. Now it’s a party.
After a minute, she trudged in after them, just wanting to fall face first into bed, and not at all liking the fact that Greyson Stranger had invaded her personal life so easily, after her vow to go cold turkey on men. What was his game, anyways?
Entering from the hallway afforded her a view of Greyson’s back as he stood in the kitchen. With his hands slung in his back pockets, his shoulders looked even wider. The pose seemed relaxed, but there was something in his stance; an underlying tension that said he was uneasy. Chelsea stretched up onto her toes to see who he was talking to. Her brow shot up at the look on Ryan’s face as he stood, arms crossed, and pissed off in front of the fridge.
What the fuck?
The fatigue wiped from behind her eyes as annoyance took its place. “What’s goin’ on here?” She stormed past Grey and got all up in Ryan’s face, not asking why she’d targeted Ryan rather than the intruder.
“Nothing, sweetheart, just questioning your new friend’s intentions. It’s a little inappropriate to be having visitors so late at night, isn’t it?”
In a haze of red, Ryan’s face started to morph into a punching bag. This guy knew all the ways to get her riled up and ready to pitch a fit. Chelsea’s mouth flattened as her eyes narrowed on him. The frown dropped from his face, taking a bit of color with it, and his throat bobbed in a gulp. Somewhere in the background she heard a faint, “oh, oh,” and a snicker in feminine tones.
Giving him a pointed stare, she prepared to serve him a dose of whupass. “Last time I checked, I was a grown ass woman who contributes an equal share of the rent here. So, if I want to have a visitor at one o’clock in the goddamn morning, I’ll have a visitor. And as long as I don’t disturb anybody’s beauty sleep, there’s not a goddamn thing you, or anyone else can say about it.” Spearing her finger at Ryan and then Grey, she continued, “I’ve had a double dose of assholes tonight, and I am done. I’m goin’ to bed.” In a role reversal, she grabbed Grey by the elbow and dragged him to the door. “Thank you for the ride home. That was real nice of ya, but you need to leave.”
“Nice to meet you!” the girls called at their backs.
“You too. I’ll be seein’ y’all,” Greyson returned with a grin.
Grrr. “You have some nerve,” she barked.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”
He spun as they reached the door, and grabbed the frame before she could push him further. Reaching out, he grasped her upper arms, holding her in place with his gray eyes as much as his grip.
“What’re you doin’?”
“Picking up where we left off.”
She sucked in a breath at the promise she saw in his stare, utterly transfixed and speechless for once in her life. His hands loosened and coursed their way up to her shoulders, neck, and face. She felt their slow caress, fireworks sparking under her skin and into her blood stream. Chelsea’s heart thundered, a mixture of fear and thrill, in anticipation of what he might do next.
She didn’t want him to kiss her.
She wanted it so badly she feared she might pass out if he didn’t put his lips on hers right this second.
Her lids fell as his face moved closer to hers. She felt the brush of his warm breath before the softness of his lips touched her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth.
Too close to be friendly.
Close enough to be tantalizing.
Too far to be satisfying.
A growl rumbled from her throat, and then his hands fell away, taking their warmth with them. Her eyelids fluttered open in time to see him get in his truck. It was too dark to see inside, but she knew he watched her as the engine revved to life. With her hand raised to her cheek, she watched him drive away, nerves collecting in a lump at her throat.
It was the strangest thing.
The loneliness …
That gaping hole in her future …
He’d plugged it for the brief time they’d spent together. Like it was shaped to fit him.
She wanted to deny it, but there it was.
Totally fucking insane.
She’d never been more scared.
Helpful Advice
Flinging an arm over her eyes, Chelsea whimpered. She’d just checked the time on her phone. Four in the frickin’ morning. Number of hours of sleep? Nil. Zilch. Zip. Nada.
Fuck!
She had kicked her covers to the floor over an hour ago, but the sweat on her skin refused to evaporate. That damn buzzing continued to zip beneath her skin. It was as if Greyson was still with her, watching her in that intense way of his. He was certainly in her thoughts, stoking her lust even as she denied its momentum.
Her fingers itched to walk their way down her body to satisfy the cravings he’d ignited. Hands locked in the sheets, she held back the urge. The new Chelsea didn’t give in to her impulses. She had control. Barely,
but she had control. The old Chelsea would’ve invited him in without protest, and promptly kicked him out when she was finished with him.
There was nothing wrong with a woman who had a healthy libido. If it was good for the goose, why the hell couldn’t the gander play too? Society’s double standards sucked. But, she must admit that there was no excuse for treating another person like a disposable product. She’d never considered that a guy might want something other than a no strings relationship. Now, she wondered if she’d hurt some hearts along the way. Shame delivered a lashing, as frustration doubled the blow. She’d take the punishment for as long as it took to make things right.
The sweat began to cool, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She kicked her legs off the side of the bed, grabbing a hoody before she headed to the bathroom. A splash of cold water did nothing to clear her head or fix the frightful reflection in the mirror. She snapped up a tissue to clean the leftover black smudges of mascara under her eyes, but only managed to smear them into wide gray bruises. Gorgeous. Why the hell did she care? Who was she going to see at four in the morning?
Figuring some early morning TV might bore her enough to send her back to sleep, or at the least distract her, she flopped on the sofa and started flicking through the channels. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there when Ryan decided to join her.
“Hey. Whatcha watching?”
She shrugged. “Infomercials.”
“My favorite.”
“Whatever turns you on.” She gave him the clicker and folded her legs up, wrapping her arms around them.
“Hey, sorry about last night. I’m just looking out for you.”
“I can look out for myself, Ryan.” She almost bared her teeth.
“Yeah, okay.” He didn’t sound convinced.
Lord, save her from men.
“So, that guy.”
Here we go. “Greyson,” she said slowly.
“Yeah. That guy. How do you know him?”
“He’s the new apprentice at work.” She turned towards him, dropping one foot to the floor and tucking the other under her knee. “Why do you even care?”