“You’re going to get dirty in that thing,” he said, sounding bad-tempered.
Dirty. That’s exactly how she wanted to be.
But of course she didn’t have the guts to say it, so she smoothed her hands along the soft fabric of Lily’s dress. It was a bright print, nothing like she’d worn in her other life. The neckline was modest and it wasn’t terribly short, but it molded to her body because it laced at the back, cinching the material against her breasts and torso. The skirt flared over her hips and the shoes she wore were tangerine, with pointed toes and tiny kitten heels.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Are you getting ready to work out?”
He grunted, then spun about.
Her libido gave a little cheer. She’d caught glimpses of him in his weight room. Now she’d get shirtless glimpses. Yum.
After an hour, though, she started to worry. His exercise regimen had increased with his doctor’s approval, but he’d been going at it too long. At her last peek, his hair had been wet with sweat and he’d been doing bicep curls with weights that looked giant to her. He’d yet to emerge from the room.
Grabbing a chilled bottle of water from the refrigerator, she made her way there. The space was bright with windows and had a door leading to the side yard. It was propped open and a large fan stirred more air. At first she didn’t see Payne amongst the benches, racks of dumbbells, and other exercise equipment. Had he headed for a shower?
Then her gaze landed on him. On a mat, he lay face down on the floor.
Rose’s heart jolted. Was he—
Then he lifted to his elbows and toes, his body perfectly straight, parallel to the ground.
She knew this exercise. The Plank.
And God, was he strong. Strong and beautiful, his back muscles standing out in relief, his biceps bulging. In her head, she counted out the seconds as she watched sweat drop from his face to the floor.
Then he faltered, his arms seeming to give out all at once and he landed on the mat with a thud.
Rose gasped, leaping forward. “Are you all right?”
He rolled, wiping sweat from his brow. “Go away,” he snarled.
She fell back a step. “Are you hurt? Can I call—”
“Don’t call anyone. Christ, Rose. Don’t stare.”
Her face heated. “I’m sorry. I came to bring you water…”
“Leave it. Leave it and then leave me alone.”
Rose obeyed, not sure if he was mad at her or at himself or some combination of the two. While she kept busy in the laundry room and the kitchen, she finally heard the shush of the shower in the master bath.
She set out his lunch on the kitchen table, then returned to the laundry room where she attacked a massive pile of towels that needed folding.
Then she heard Payne in the kitchen. Not long after, he appeared in the doorway nearby, a green apple in hand. “Sorry,” he said.
She glanced over. “That’s all right.”
“It’s really not,” he said, then hesitated. “I’m tired of being an invalid.”
Turning, she made a show of looking him over. He was barefoot and in worn jeans. A T-shirt molded his broad shoulders and revealed muscled arms. His hair was damp and from here she could smell the clean scent of him. “You are so not an invalid.”
His grin flashed, on then off. “Yeah? Well, Reed beat me at pool yesterday.”
She pulled a towel from the pile and held it to her breasts. “Pool requires a level of physical fitness?”
“The way I play it does.”
Rose squeezed the fabric to her suddenly pounding heart. She could imagine Payne leaning over a table, his focus concentrated on the next play. He’d look that same way hovering over a woman in bed, his blue eyes fierce, his attention on her face, her body, her pleasure.
He made a noise then.
She twitched, coming back to the moment. “What?”
His chin lifted, a subtle point in her direction. “That’s why all my clothes and linens smell like you.”
Glancing down, she realized she was clutching the towel like a lover. Flustered, she shifted and smoothed out its wrinkles. “Are we putting time in at the salvage yards today?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Nah. I’ll be working on the database here at home.”
She blew out a small relieved breath. It saved her from having to make some excuse to get them back in time for Cami and Mystery Man’s visit.
Later, though, she wondered if she should have given him warning that she expected his sister and another visitor. When the doorbell rang, he was the one to answer it, though she hovered a few feet away.
“Cam!” he said, surprise evident in his voice.
“Hey.” She crossed the threshold to buss his cheek, dragging in a man behind her.
“Who’s this?” Payne asked.
His sister smirked. “Say ‘welcome,’ why don’t you? This is my friend Dustin.”
“Your friend?”
Rose ventured nearer and could see Payne was giving the other man a thorough inspection. It didn’t seem to faze him though. Dustin held out his hand and delivered an easy smile along with his handshake. A couple of inches shorter than Payne, he had a shock of brown hair and friendly eyes that crinkled at the corners.
Cami’s gaze shifted over her brother’s shoulder. “Rose, here’s someone I want you to meet.”
More introductions were made. Aware of Dustin’s regard, she tried not to trip over her feet. When she offered up refreshments, the men went to the back yard while Cami followed her into the kitchen.
“Well?” the other woman demanded.
Rose made a face. “I just met him.”
“Cute, though, right?”
“Right.” Rose prepared a tray of beverages and one bowl of popcorn and another of nuts. As she carried it outside it was Dustin who jumped from his seat to take it the rest of the way. Payne frowned.
Jealous, maybe?
But his expression smoothed out and so did Rose’s pulse as the four of them chatted. Payne engaged Cami in some shop talk, which left her to speak with Dustin about the warm spring weather, the differences between Southern California and Seattle, that he was a fairly recent transplant from Louisiana.
She smiled at him. “So that’s where the molasses drawl comes from.”
Shrugging, he smiled back. “What can I say?”
“Anything you like. I love your accent.”
“Could you listen to it all night?” he teased.
A blast of cold came out of nowhere. Rose glanced around and realized Payne was staring at them, his eyes icy. Cami had a little smile playing around her mouth.
“Can I talk to you for a minute, Rose?” Mr. Mean Blue Eyes asked.
Nodding, she excused herself and followed Payne into the kitchen. He rounded on her there, his hands on his hips. “What’s all that?”
“Um…”
“Ren’s been after the identity of Cami’s secret guy for months, and the day she brings him over here, you…” He frowned, as if the words wouldn’t come to his tongue.
Where to begin? “I don’t think he’s Cami’s secret guy,” she began.
“And he’s not.” Cami slipped into the kitchen. “He’s not my guy at all, so Rose is perfectly free to flirt with him all she likes.”
“Flirting? I wasn’t actually flirting.”
Cami spoke to Payne, right over Rose. “I brought him here for her, as a matter of fact.”
He jerked back, looking from his sister to Rose then to Cami again.
His sister’s attention switched to Rose. “Just like I predicted on Saturday. He wants to take you to dinner.”
Rose slid her gaze to Payne. Now, Rose thought. Do it now. Tell your sister you’ll be taking me to dinner.
“I get the dress now,” he said.
His frosty tone put up her hackles. “Would you rather I’d worn my maid’s uniform?”
“Maybe so. It would better clarify our positions.”
&
nbsp; Her jaw dropped as she took in the slap. He considered her his…servant and he didn’t want her to forget that.
Cami groaned. “Geez, Payne…”
Rose didn’t stay to hear the rest of what she said. Instead, she collected her purse and strolled out to the backyard, a smile on her face for Dustin of the friendly eyes with the crinkles at the corners. He extended the dinner invitation and she accepted. Then they made to leave.
Payne eventually met up with them as they were exiting through the front door. His face betrayed nothing. Instead of exhibiting even an ounce of jealousy, he actually wished they’d have an enjoyable evening.
And Rose did have an enjoyable evening, Dustin’s genial charm and gift for conversation giving her little time to think about Payne and how his remarks and his indifference had hurt.
Forget about him, she told herself during the meal. It’s past time to move on.
After the pleasant dinner, Dustin drove her back to the house where she’d left her car in the driveway. In his Southern drawl he wished her good night and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Climbing out of his vehicle, she waved him off, then approached her own. She had no intention of disturbing Payne before returning to Lily’s. Except then she spotted a note under her windshield wiper: Stop in when you get back.
Biting her lip, she pondered what to do. Then Payne’s front door swung open and he stood in the porch light, looking huge and surly and so damn beautiful that the evening with Dustin turned to…well, dust.
She was halfway to him when he was in her face, his strides having eaten up the distance. Grabbing her hand in a firm grip, he towed her back to her car. “We have some place to go,” he said.
Chapter Seven
Payne slid a glance at Rose’s face, her pretty features outlined by the dashboard lights. “I’m a jerk,” he said.
She didn’t disabuse him of the notion.
“I should have called Ren or Reed to take me to the yard, but I knew you’d be coming back for your car and I…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Okay, not only am I a jerk for having you drive me to check out this latest security breach, but I’m a jerk for accusing you of having designs on Cami’s man.”
Her continued silence felt like a sharp poke in the gut.
“And I definitely shouldn’t have made that crack about you wearing the maid’s uniform.” Please, God, she wouldn’t follow up on his comment and actually show up in it again. That would be a real punishment.
“Did you truly believe Dustin was Cami’s secret guy?”
“Yes. No.” He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, his mind glazed with something stupid and green that wasn’t anything he’d experienced before. “I actually think I saw the real secret guy once, at my motorcycle yard where Cami works. Didn’t look like Dustin.” Dustin looked like a kindergarten teacher, if you asked Payne. Probably carried his great-grandmother’s engagement ring in his pocket, ready to pop the question the instant the right woman showed on his horizon.
Christ, Rose could be a fiancée already, because they’d both had that shiny wholesome thing going on which had made him want to punch the wall.
“What did Cami’s guy look like?”
“A biker.”
“Really?”
“Really. Tat sleeves on both arms. Rides a Harley. I don’t dare tell Ren. He’d probably try to lock up Cam in the Maddox castle tower at the Lemons compound.”
Rose laughed.
Payne wished he was kidding. He stole another glance at her. “So again,” he said. “Sorry.”
“All right.”
“You mean that?” Reaching over, he put his hand on her leg, just above her knee. Her skin was icy. “You’re freezing!” Instantly, he started to adjust the dials on her dash.
“Don’t bother,” Rose said. “The heater hardly ever works.”
Payne frowned. “You should have told me before. I’ll fix it for you tomorrow.”
“You’ll have my undying gratitude.”
“I don’t want that,” he muttered. He only wanted her…friendship again, or whatever you’d call what they had. As soon as she’d left with the other man, Payne had berated himself for taking out his crap mood on her. He’d snapped at her from the moment she’d stepped into the house that morning.
But she’d looked so damn delectable in that dress. Sunny and feminine and fuckable. His urge had been to bend her over the closest surface, flip up her flirty skirt, and slide into her, hot knife into soft butter.
When the vents only blew cool as she’d predicted, he cursed and flipped off the fan. Then, leaning over, he rubbed his palms briskly over her bare thighs, from her knees to a few inches below her dress’s hem.
With a squeak, she jolted under his touch and the car brailled over some lane bumps. “What are you doing?” she said, straightening out the wheel.
“Warming you up. I always thought it was stupid when girls wore dresses or shorts with those sheepskin boots, but you could use a pair.”
Rose cleared her throat. “I’m plenty warm now, thanks. Why don’t you move your hands and tell me about the security problem.”
He sat back in his seat. “Probably just a technical glitch. The security people went out there, didn’t see anything. I’ll feel better if I check it out myself, though.”
“I can tell the yards are important to you.” She sent him a quick glance. “What made you go into that business in the first place?”
“Probably because I wrecked so many cars myself.”
“Yikes. No wonder your family worries about you.”
“That was a joke.” He peered ahead as she turned into the commercial district. It was quiet and deserted, no activity to be seen. “I was attracted to anything with wheels as long as I can remember. I think I realized early on they would be my means of escape from the compound.” Didn’t that make him sound like a loser. “And my profits pay for all my reckless fun.”
She pulled in front of the yard and stopped the car. “I’ll stay here—”
“No, I don’t want to leave you out here alone. I’ll unlock the gate and you can drive to the rear. Then you can wait inside while I look around.”
In the back office, she put her purse down on the couch. “Do you mind if I make a cup of tea in the microwave?”
“I can’t vouch for the age of the bags, but go ahead.”
Payne left her to take a tour of the grounds. Nothing appeared amiss, but he walked twice around the perimeter of the cyclone fencing, flashlight in hand. He needed to get some cameras installed. When he’d convinced himself there were no breaks or obvious attempts at entry, he returned to the building at the front of the property.
Rose was where he’d left her, the reading lamp on the desk throwing the only light into the shadowed room. Mug in hand, she was curled in one corner of the couch, staring off into the distance.
He remained in the doorway, noting her pensive expression. What was she thinking about? Who was she thinking about?
Biting back the question, he stepped into the room. Her head whipped toward him. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
“Is it time to go?”
Since her mug was still steaming, he held up a hand. “Finish your tea.” He settled onto the other end of the couch and frowned at the desk and its messy piles of paperwork. Boxes of old parts were leaning against the stained wall nearby. “This place still looks like crap,” he said, shaking his head.
“I’ve seen your other auto yard. What did it look like at first?”
“Worse than this dump,” he admitted.
“There you go. With time and elbow grease it’ll be up to your standards and won’t that be satisfying?”
He grunted, though she was right. Building a successful business was a gratifying process, especially to someone who previously had only found pleasure in the temporary rush of adrenaline he got out of speed and in the temporary release he found through sex. Without the yards, his only points of pride might have been as the ki
d who’d clocked one-twenty in his dad’s “borrowed” car at ten and as the teen who’d been regularly banging starlets before he had an un-fake driver’s license in his back pocket.
“What about you?” he asked. It wasn’t the question he wanted answered, but it would do.
“Me?” she asked, glancing over.
“What makes you look forward to the sun coming up another day?”
“I told you.” Her gaze shifted to the depths of her tea. “Trying to figure that out.”
“It wasn’t in Seattle.”
She hesitated.
Meaning Payne should let it go. But it was either prying her past out of her or delving into the details of her date. Like hell would he let on that he cared about her and her dinner partner. “Hey, haven’t I been baring my soul?”
“Hardly.”
“Come on. You’ve seen my scar, my dirty laundry, and the contents of my medicine cabinet.”
She tried to look offended. “I haven’t snooped in your medicine cabinet.”
“Like hell.” He grinned at her. “I bet you couldn’t wait to find out what size condoms I wear.”
“The same that would fit over your humungous ego,” she muttered.
He laughed. “Tell me why you came back to L.A. Is it that numbers aren’t your thing?”
Her mouth pursed, then she slid him a look. “It’s because I think one plus one equals two, not two and a side piece.”
Uh-oh. “Name?”
“His is Blake. We lived together. Her name is Sandra. She lived in the condo next door to ours.”
“And…what? Now she’s six feet under and you’re running from the law?”
“No, now she’s in the bed I used to share with Blake.”
“Ouch.”
“I used to share a company with Blake too…we worked together at my dad’s firm. When the affair came to light, my father encouraged me to overlook it. ‘All men cheat,’ he said and proved that point by telling me he’d had affairs more than once while married to my mother.”
Yeah, so she hadn’t known about her father’s fun at the Velvet Lemons parties.
“Oh, and he’d cheated on his current wife a time or two as well. So I should get back to my desk and my files and quit whinging on about what I couldn’t change.”
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