by SJ McCoy
“Have you spoken to Davenport yet?” Terry’s steely blue eyes were piercing.
She wanted to look away, but she wouldn’t. “No. I’m going to try him tomorrow.”
“And what are you going to say?” asked Spider, who she hadn’t realized had come over to join them.
She sighed. “Don’t give me a hard time—either of you.”
“Wasn’t about to,” said Terry. “I’m just waiting and watching. I’ve never seen you get uptight like this about anything. I want to see how it plays out.”
Spider met her gaze. “I do, too, but we’re running out of time.”
“I know, I know. I wanted to give it a day or two—”
“Yeah, but it’s already been four.”
She sighed. “I just wanted to be sure. I wanted to do some more research on the guy. From what I’ve learned, he’s totally aboveboard. I think any kind of threat would be the wrong move. We need to appeal to his better nature and ask him for help.”
Spider gave her an evil grin. “And you hate that because you want the guy to be an arrogant prick, right?”
She scowled. “No! Why would I hate it? I want what’s best for the center, and if he’s a good guy, then hopefully he’ll help out.”
“So, why don’t you go ahead and call him?” asked Terry.
Spider smirked at her.
“What’s your problem?” she asked.
“I don’t have one. Your problem is that you think I’m stupid. I know what’s going on.”
Grace held his gaze, hoping that her scowl would make him back down, but it didn’t work.
Spider grinned at Terry. “See, this Oscar Davenport guy is a bit of a ladies’ man. From what I’ve heard, he’s not just a billionaire, but a hot, sexy billionaire who knows how to show a girl a good time. Right, Grace?”
“I wouldn’t know. And what would it matter? My only interest in him is whether or not he’s going to do anything to help the center.”
“Not true,” said Spider.
“Yeah, I’m not buying it.” Terry smiled at her. “It’s the pink in your cheeks that gives you away.”
Grace huffed. “What the guy looks like has nothing to do with anything.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Spider turned around to watch a couple of the kids who were arguing over one of the sandwiches. “I think it does, but either way, call him soon, would you?”
Grace nodded, and he left them to go and break up a fight before it started.
“Are you worried he’ll be more interested in you than in helping?” asked Terry.
Grace laughed. “No. A guy like that—who can have any woman he wants—isn’t going to be interested in me. Honestly, I’m just a bit embarrassed that I found him so attractive. I want to make sure I’ve got a lid on that before I approach him about the center. I don’t want to screw up.”
Terry sighed. “You’re not going to screw up. You never do, at least not when it comes to the center. Just don’t screw yourself over if you like the guy.”
Grace raised an eyebrow at him. “What, you’re into giving out romantic advice now, Terry? I didn’t think that was your bag.”
The way he smiled made her wonder. “You think you know me, Gracie, and you do better than most, but you don’t know all of my story.”
“Maybe one day?”
“Maybe, but don’t turn it around on me. Call the guy tonight, and when you do, think about yourself as well as the center.” He held her gaze for a long moment, his steely blue eyes searching her own. Eventually, she nodded.
“Good girl.” He spun his wheelchair around and left.
It was almost nine by the time she got home. “Hello?” she called as she closed the door behind her. She didn’t think Louise was here but wanted to be sure. She’d made the mistake before of coming home and getting comfy, curled up with a movie, only to see Louise and some guy emerge from her room.
There was no reply, and no giveaway noises coming from Louise’s room. Grace blew out a sigh of relief. If she really was alone, then she had no excuses left for putting off making the call to Oscar Davenport.
She went to the fridge and got herself a cold beer. Taking it over to the sofa, she pulled his card out of her pocket. She’d decided she was going to keep this as brief and businesslike as possible. He might not even remember who she was. She was going to call him, tell him about the center, and how his building a new nightclub was going to affect it, and then ask if he’d be interested in making a donation to help them find someplace else. That was it. Nothing else. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of his kiss—the way his hand had slid up her thigh. The way his tongue had explored her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment, reliving it. Damn. She had to stop that.
She took a long drink of her beer and tapped his number into her phone. Keep it brief. Keep it businesslike. Spell out what she wanted and tell him she’d call him on Monday to see what he thought. That was all she had to do. So, why were her hands shaking?
She stared at her phone for a few moments. No. She wasn’t going to waste time. Fantasizing about him wasn’t an indulgence she could afford. She hit the dial button and waited.
Chapter Seven
“So, what do you think?” asked Oscar.
Julia Lawson smiled. It was an uptight smile. He’d bet she’d take some loosening up, but she’d be worth it.
“I think it’s a great opportunity, Mr. Davenport. I’d love to work with you.”
“It’s Oscar, remember?” He rested his hand on the small of her back and guided her back toward the bar. The club was starting to fill up, but for some reason, he didn’t want to use that as an excuse to take her into his private room. Instead, he pulled out a seat for her at the end of the bar and then stood in close. She was starting to relax a little, and when she flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled up at him, he knew she was starting to play the game.
He probably shouldn’t be playing it. She was one of the architects he was considering for the new club. She was good—one of the best—and he admired her work. He also admired her ass—he closed his eyes briefly—it was a great little ass, even if it paled in comparison to the full, round ass that had been haunting him since Saturday night. Grace. Grace whatever-her-name-was had the best ass he’d ever seen. He wanted some of that ass. He wanted Grace.
“… Don’t you think?”
He looked down at the architect. She was smiling at him, encouraging him; it was subtle, but she was. She wasn’t to know that subtle wasn’t his thing, and she sure as hell wouldn’t dream that she couldn’t hold his attention because he was too busy fantasizing about an office girl and her big, gorgeous ass. He gave the architect—Julia, that was it—an apologetic smile. “I think you have some great ideas. Give my office a call when you’ve put something together. I’m sorry, I have to talk to someone.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed it to her as if it could explain. He didn’t need to make a call. He just needed to get away from her, to get somewhere quiet where he could let his imagination run wild. Grace had been plaguing his thoughts for days now. He’d kept pushing her away, but if she wasn’t going to leave him in peace so he could indulge in Julia, then he was going to at least have to let his imagination have its way with her.
As Julia looked down at his phone, it rang. He gave her an apologetic shrug as he walked away. He didn’t recognize the number, and his heart started to pound. It was Grace. He knew it.
“I was just thinking about you,” he answered, as he strode over to one of the private dining rooms and let himself inside.
The line was silent for a long moment, but he waited. She wouldn’t hang up on him; he knew it.
“What were you thinking?”
Damn, just the sound of her voice had him hard and aching for her. He leaned back against the door and decided to tell the truth, see where it took them. “I was thinking about your ass and what I’d like to do with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, I wasn’t thinking about excusing you.”
Her voice was low and husky when she finally spoke again. “What were you thinking about?”
He smiled. “Come over here, and I’ll tell you.”
“No.” She answered too quickly. She was open to the possibility, he could tell.
“You want to talk to me, don’t you?”
“No. Yes. I mean, of course, I do. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t.”
“So, come here. I can’t hear you very well on the phone. It’s a bad line. The club’s noisy.”
“It’s nine o’clock.”
“So?”
“So, by the time I get changed and get a cab over there, it’ll be ten o’clock, and I have to work tomorrow.”
“Then, don’t get changed. I’ll come to you. Where are you?”
“I’m not giving you my address.”
Oscar smirked. “Okay, where will you meet me?”
She was silent for a few moments. “Can’t we just talk on the phone?”
“What? Sorry? The line’s really bad. Where did you say I should meet you?”
She sighed. “The coffee shop, on the corner of Wilson and Oak. Meet me outside in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
Oscar chuckled to himself as he hung up. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was like he’d wanted her so much he’d somehow magicked her up. He let himself back out of the dining room and headed for the office. He was glad TJ wasn’t driving for him tonight. Darren would take him wherever he wanted to go and wouldn’t ask any questions.
He looked up as Oscar entered the office. “Is everything okay?”
“Better than okay. Get the keys. We’re going out.”
~ ~ ~
Grace hung up and stared at her phone. That hadn’t gone like it was supposed to. It wasn’t her fault. He’d thrown her off, answering the way he did. He was just thinking about her? He’d taken her breath away when he said that, and she still hadn’t recovered.
She jumped to her feet. Why had she agreed to meet him? And why the hell had she only given herself fifteen minutes? What kind of lunatic was she? She ran into her room. What was she going to wear? She’d said she didn’t have time to change, and he wasn’t expecting her to so she couldn’t put on anything nice—even if she had time. She opened her closet and stared desperately at the few things she had. Jeans—jeans were always good. She pulled out her favorite pair, she knew she looked good in them—uh-oh she also knew her ass looked great in them. Had he really been thinking about her ass? She pulled out a long cream-colored sweater. It was roomy, and long enough to cover her ass, but still pretty. She ran into the bathroom and checked her face. Eyeliner, lipstick, check. That was as much makeup as she ever usually wore. If he expected her to look like she had on Saturday night, he’d be disappointed.
She grabbed her purse and headed out. It was only a five-minute walk to the coffee shop. She still had another five minutes to spare when she got there. She went inside and relaxed a little when Spider looked up at her with a smile.
“Are you going to let me feed you? I noticed you didn’t get anything earlier.”
“No, thanks. I’m meeting someone.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Anyone I know?”
“Yeah, but it’s not what you think.” When she dated a new guy, she usually brought him in here at the beginning or end of the first date. Spider was the only family she had, and he liked to play the big brother role. Grace secretly loved feeling that she had someone in her corner, someone looking out for her.
“Who?”
“Oscar Davenport.”
Spider chuckled. “I knew it.”
“You don’t know a thing. I tried calling him, but he was at the club, and he couldn’t hear me, so he suggested we meet up to talk instead.”
“Yeah, right. So, you’re meeting him in here. Am I allowed to join in?”
“Umm, no. I’m meeting him outside.”
Spider smirked. “And where are you going?”
She shrugged.
“I’ll make you a deal, doll. You bring him in here before you leave, and I’ll let you get on with it. You don’t, and I might have to make things clear to him.”
Grace stared at him. “It’s not a date.”
Spider shrugged and rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms that she knew the ladies loved, but she also knew sent a very different message to men.
“Okay, okay. I’ll bring him in. For two minutes.”
Spider jerked his chin toward the front window. “You’d better go get him then.”
Grace followed his gaze.
“I don’t know anyone else who’d show up here in a limo.”
Grace’s heart pounded in her chest as she walked to the door. She needed to get a grip. No matter what he might think of her ass, this was about the center. Nothing else. She stepped outside at the same moment he stepped out of the limo. He was just as gorgeous as she remembered— more so, maybe. Tonight, he was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. She had to consciously stop herself from licking her lips.
He held the car door open for her, but she shook her head.
His cocky smile faltered but only for a second. “You don’t want to come?” The glint of amusement in his eyes told her that yes, the double meaning was intended.
She nodded slowly. She wasn’t going to admit to that yes out loud. “I need you to meet someone first.”
“Who?”
“A friend. He’s like a big brother. He keeps an eye out for me.”
She was surprised when he smiled. “It’d be a pleasure.”
As he came toward her, the driver’s door opened, and a huge guy climbed out. “Everything okay, boss?”
“It’s all good, Darren. We’ll be with you in a minute.” Oscar opened the door to the coffee shop and let Grace go ahead of him.
When they reached the counter, Spider adopted his best intimidating stance. Grace wanted to poke him in the ribs to make him deflate his puffed-out chest a little. “Spider, this is Oscar Davenport. Oscar, meet Spider.” She pursed her lips. “Also known as Mr. Paul Webster.”
Oscar reached across to shake Spider’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Grace hid a smile as she saw him grimace. Spider was no doubt giving him the famous bone-crushing shake.
“Nice to meet you. I won’t keep you. Just wanted to see your face and to let you know Grace has people here, looking out for her.” He didn’t smile; there was nothing friendly in his face as he spoke.
If Grace didn’t know him so well, she’d be terrified. She looked at Oscar. He wasn’t worried. He held Spider’s gaze and nodded, then he handed over his card. “I understand.” He extended his hand again, and Grace knew what he was doing. He wasn’t a glutton for punishment; he was making a point. The hint of a smile on Spider’s face as they shook again told her he appreciated it.
“Okay.” She released the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “Are you ready?” she asked Oscar.
He nodded and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She wasn’t sure if he was just that much of a gentleman or if he wanted to watch her ass.
“Ring me when you get home, Gracie,” called Spider as they reached the door.
She shot him a grin. “Will do.”
Oscar held the car door open for her, and she slid in. She looked around as he went to the other side to let himself in. She’d seen plenty of limos around, but she’d never been inside one before. It was fancy. The leather seats were soft, and the trim was all genuine wood.
Oscar slid into the seat beside her with a smile.
“Where to?” asked the big guy sitting up front.
“Home.”
Grace’s throat went dry. Home? They were going to his place? She turned to look at Oscar.
“We need to … talk, right?”
The way he pause
d before he said talk, sent shivers down her spine. She nodded. They did need to talk. That was all this was about. She had to ignore or forget or somehow disregard the effect he was having on her. It didn’t matter that the butterflies had taken to flight in her stomach. It didn’t matter that the electricity in the air between them was practically humming. All that mattered was that they should talk about the center and that she should somehow persuade him to help them out.
He pressed a button on the armrest and the little window to the front slid shut. Grace pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. The center. She just had to keep focusing on the center.
“Don’t you want to know any more?”
She gave him a puzzled look. It was hard to look at him and not smile. He was so handsome. His big dark brown eyes sparkled with amusement. His lips quirked up in the hint of a smile. “Know what?”
He brought his hand up to his mouth as if to cover his smile. She watched, mesmerized as he ran his thumb over his lips. For a crazy moment, she wanted him to run it over hers. “When I told you I was thinking about you, you asked me what I was thinking.”
Oh. Shit. Yeah. He’d said he was thinking about her ass and what he wanted to do. She swallowed. Hard. “Maybe you should wait your turn. I had something I wanted to tell you on Saturday, and we haven’t gotten to that yet.”
He smiled. “Not my fault. I asked you to tell me.”
She nodded. “True, but I don’t like to be rushed.” She accompanied the words with a meaningful nod, hoping he’d get the hint to go a bit slower.
He smiled, seeming to take her words as a sign that she might be open to whatever it was he was thinking if he took his time about it. “Okay. Tell me all about it. Why did you come looking for Oscar Davenport?”
She took a deep breath. She had to tell him. This was what it was all about. Just as she was about to speak, he reached across and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The electricity in the air zapped through her, doing strange things to her stomach, and lower. She turned to meet his gaze, and he smiled. “I couldn’t resist. You do something to me, Grace.”