Fall in Love

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Fall in Love Page 147

by Anthology


  I took in the sight of the girl sprawled on the bathroom tiles. It was clear she’d broken in through the window and somehow lost the lower half of her outfit in the process. I was okay with that. Her yellow thong left little to the imagination. She groaned and attempted to see through the mass of a brown ponytail.

  Dealing with an overzealous groupie was nothing new to me. I’d never had an actual crazy chick pursue me, but I suppose there was bound to be a first time. My manager always warned me I needed to take my personal security more seriously. “Better safe than sorry” he’d say, and I guess he was right.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She didn’t say anything but slowly moved into a sitting position. She wore a fitted blouse so I could see she wasn’t packing any weapons. Unless a pair of full C cups counted. She lifted her head and her long ponytail swung out of her face, revealing a set of doe-brown eyes. They didn’t appear to be fully focused.

  “The cops are on their way,” I said.

  That got her attention. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to use the lid on the toilet to hoist herself upright. On her feet, she gripped the marble counter beside her. Her orange toenail polish practically glowed. My gaze traveled up the olive skin of her legs to the apex of her thighs. Her entire body stiffened. The show was over.

  “Oh god,” she said. She whirled to grab at the skirt hanging from the window and gave it a few good yanks. It didn’t budge. She must have realized she was on display because she whipped around. I guess she didn’t like me taking in the view. She eyed the towel rack and hastily grabbed one of the plush towels, wrapping it around her waist.

  “Maybe you should worry less about your skirt and more about what’s gonna happen when the cops get here.” I don’t know why she was being so modest. What was the point of breaking into my place if she hadn’t planned on letting me in her pants? Hell, if it was a few years ago I would’ve been happy to see her.

  The color drained from her face and for a moment I felt bad. But as cute as she was I didn’t want to give this chick any reason to think she’d be welcome during my stay. I didn’t need an obsessive groupie trying to insert herself into my life. I was here for one reason only. Relax before my next tour began and find out why the hell a guy who supposedly had it all wasn’t content with his life.

  “You called the cops?” she asked sounding panicked.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I didn’t break in. Honest!”

  I looked from her, to the open window and back and raised a brow.

  “No really! I’m from Beachside Realty,” she said.

  “Sure you are.”

  “The housekeeper was here earlier and she locked the key inside. My boss told me you wouldn’t be here yet and I was trying to get the key so I could put it back in the lockbox for you.”

  “Well, if you’re a Realtor, show me your card.”

  She blanched. “I didn’t say I was a Realtor. I said I’m from the real estate office. I’m a secretary.”

  “You expect me to believe you don’t know who I am?”

  She appeared genuinely confused. Maybe she was for real. “Should I? My boss didn’t give me a name, unless your real name is client.”

  I laughed. She had balls. I’d give her that. “Give me your boss’s number and we’ll see if you’re telling the truth.”

  Her eyes widened even more. “You can’t call him.”

  “Can and will.” I crossed my arms across my bare chest. “You’d rather face the police than your boss?”

  “Yes. He’ll fire me. Let me prove it. That key’s got to be in here somewhere. We can find it and you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

  I probably outweighed her by seventy pounds and towered over her by at least six inches; she was no real threat to me. She really didn’t seem to know who I was so I decided to indulge her in the effort to prove herself innocent.

  “All right then. Find the key.”

  She let out a rush of breath. “Thank you.” She took a step forward and then stopped. “Wait a minute…how did you get in?” she asked.

  “I used one of the French doors on the deck. Why?”

  She looked confused. “I checked those and they were all locked.”

  “Are you going to find that key or not?” It was force of habit to lock the door behind me. Whenever my mom would leave me alone as a kid she’d make sure I’d lock the door after she left. I wasn’t about to tell this girl that though.

  I motioned for her to go in front of me. At this point I didn’t think she meant any harm but I still didn’t want my back to her. She scurried past me, and I got a whiff of her perfume. I usually didn’t give a shit one way or the other what perfume a girl wore. Something about hers though... I liked it. The slight vanilla and citrus scent left trailing behind her had my thoughts moving in a southerly direction.

  She trekked into the great room with its wall of glass and French doors every few feet—a woman on a mission. I’d picked this rental because of the contemporary design on the outside, and more traditional beach decor inside. It featured the expected pale wood floors, white couches and blue accents. The pool on the deck didn’t hurt either. I could still go for a swim and maintain privacy if the beach was crowded.

  “It’s gotta be here somewhere,” she said. She scampered around back of the couch and checked the coffee and end tables. When she came up empty she made her way over to the kitchen, searching the black granite counter for the key in question. Her brows drew together after she moved over to the white-washed kitchen table and came up empty-handed.

  Those doe eyes of hers darted over to me and panic set in.

  “Maybe it’s in the bedroom. I’ll go check there,” she said.

  Hell, if this was a ruse to get me into the bedroom with her, it was the most creative I’d seen thus far. And in the past five years I’d seen a lot of shit. I followed her. My suitcases were in there and on the remote chance she did know who I was, I didn’t want her stealing my shit to sell on EBay.

  I rushed in to find her bent over the nightstand. Before I could imagine what she’d look like in that position without the towel wrapped around her waist, she spun around.

  “Aha.” Her hand flew up in front of her, displaying the key. She winced and dropped her prize, grabbing her right wrist.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked, and made my way over to her.

  “I’ll be okay. I told you I was telling the truth.” The smile on her face was triumphant.

  “I can see that.” Now that I was closer, I noticed a good-sized goose egg forming on her forehead. “Here, sit down on the bed so I can take a look at your wrist and your head.”

  She stood in place. “What’s wrong with my head?”

  “You’ve got a big bump. Do you feel dizzy or anything?”

  “I did earlier. I’ve got a headache, but I’m fine.” She glanced warily at the bed, “I’m going to get out of here.”

  “Sit.” My tone brooked no argument and from her swift intake of breath, she knew I meant it. I wasn’t trying to scare her but I knew if she had suffered a concussion it could be serious. Experience had been a great teacher. Having a drunk for a mom meant I’d dealt with enough falls to know my way around a first-aid kit.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but sat down on the edge of the bed anyway.

  I liked seeing her on my bed. She was gorgeous in a way that wasn’t totally obvious at first. Her appeal didn’t scream “look at me” the way most of the women in my world did. At first glance she reminded me of the girl next door, but her lips were a little too plump, her eyes a little too sultry.

  She broke eye contact and looked down. When she realized she was looking at my crotch her gaze darted to the floor and a pink flush crept into her cheeks. I felt the stirrings of desire again.

  “Wait right here. I’ll be back.”

  *****

  Now that he was gone I let out the breath I’d been holding. Holy crap. I’d never been in close proximity with such a
stunning piece of male. When I’d first raised my head off the bathroom floor I figured I’d hit it harder than I thought.

  He’d been shirtless and on display was a set of muscular arms and a rock-hard six pack. It could have been an eight-pack for all I knew. I had been a little woozy at the time. I’d have a closer look when he came back out. My best friend Skye would want details when I relayed this story later, and I was nothing if not a good friend. To push him even higher on the hot meter, tattoos covered both arms from his wrist to his shoulders. When he’d gone into the bathroom I’d seen a huge eagle spread across the rippling muscles of his upper back. His face was chiseled and his green eyes were surrounded by a full set of dark lashes that matched the cropped, dark hair on his head. I’d never seen a guy rock a five-o’clock shadow so well. His look was intense, but he came off as more of a laid-back surfer guy.

  I heard him rifling through drawers. Shit, as I stood here mentally undressing this guy the cops were on their way. Jeff was not going to be happy. Never mind how attractive this guy was, I had bigger issues.

  “Um...excuse me?” No answer. “Excuse me...” It occurred to me that I couldn’t even address dreamboat by name.

  He walked back into the room with a first-aid kit in his hands and sat down beside me on the bed. Every nerve leapt to attention. My skin felt itchy like I needed to scratch only there was no one spot that would give me relief. This was ridiculous. I had bigger problems than the fact that my hormones worked overtime around this guy.

  “Mason,” he said.

  “Huh?” Way to showcase my college education with that reply.

  “My name is Mason.”

  “Right. I’m Ellie Wagner. Nice to meet you.”

  I stuck out my hand to shake his. Seconds after he took my hand in his I wrenched it away; for two reasons. One, because it friggin’ hurt my wrist. Two, because the electric jolt racing up my arm when he touched me was unnerving. His eyes flicked up to meet mine. I could see now that they weren’t all green. Flecks of hazel around his iris broke up the solid color. The combination made it difficult to look away, but my brain managed to remember the situation with the cops still needed sorting out.

  “So, Mason, about the cops. You can call them now and tell them they don’t need to come, right? That it was all a big misunderstanding?” I’ll admit I batted my eyelashes a little in the hopes he’d see only an innocent girl who in no way deserved an audience with the authorities.

  He laughed. He freaking laughed like it was a big joke that I might be arrested. Never mind that when the police called Jeff to check my story, I’d lose my job.

  “I don’t see the humor in this situation.” I was trying to tread lightly but even I could hear the irritation in my voice.

  A slow easy smile crept across his face. He had a dimple. Seriously? That attractive and somehow the heavens figured he needed a dimple, too? For what? In case there was a girl alive who didn’t want to drop their panties for him upon contact? It was just unfair.

  “Easy. The cops aren’t on their way.”

  “But...you said—”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I lied.”

  “Oh.” I sounded so damn intelligent today.

  “I didn’t have time to call them. I heard the crash and came running and there you were. Pretty girl, pantless, sprawled on the bathroom floor.”

  Heat rushed into my cheeks. I felt mortified enough that he’d basically seen my bare ass before he even knew my name. Bringing it up again only made it worse. I was saving my mental breakdown for when I got back in my car. Surely I’d exceeded my monthly quota for embarrassment.

  “Now, let’s take a look at your injuries.” He picked my wrist up off my lap and gently turned it over a couple of times to check it out. “It looks like you only sprained it. Nothing is broken or it’d be blown up like a damn balloon right now. It’s a little swollen. Ice it when you get home and it’ll probably feel a lot better in the morning.”

  “Okay, good idea.”

  “I’m gonna wrap it anyways to help keep the swelling down.” Instead of moving to get the bandage out of the first-aid kit, he stroked his thumb over the pulse at my wrist. He probably meant it to be soothing. I found it erotic as hell and had to resist the urge to press my thighs together. I said nothing but watched as his much larger hand held mine. My heart was beating so fast I was sure he could hear it. I tried my best to keep my breathing even.

  The silence stretched and began to feel awkward so I cleared my throat. Mason let my hand go and searched through the first-aid kit. I found it difficult not to watch the muscles moving beneath the skin on his forearms while he did his rummaging. Who knew I had a fetish for forearm muscles?

  “Okay, hold your hand out,” he said. He gently wrapped gauze around my wrist, almost delicately. It was surprising a man with so much raw power could be so gentle. “All finished.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me take a look at your head.”

  He raised his hand to my face and lightly brushed away stray hairs that’d come loose from my ponytail and tucked them behind my ear. A shiver raced up my spine. As Mason tended to my forehead and the apparent lump there, I used the opportunity to check out his eyes again. They were astonishing. I’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like them in my life. As he leaned in to get a better look at my injury the scent of coconut suntan lotion drifted up and I realized he’d probably been planning on hitting the beach or the pool before I’d come barging in. That must’ve accounted for him being bare-chested. Of course, if I had a body like his I’d saunter around advertising it, too.

  “You have a pretty good bump starting, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

  “I’m fine. Honest.” Uncomfortable again by how close he was, I went to lift myself off the bed. I needed to get out of here before I made a bigger mess of things and he really did call my boss, but his hand was on my shoulder exerting pressure to get me to sit back down.

  “Sit.”

  It was clear it wasn’t a request so with a sigh I did as he said.

  “Do you feel woozy at all?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Is there any blurring in your vision?”

  “No.”

  “Do you feel tired, like you want to go to sleep?”

  “No more so than usual.”

  “Headache?”

  “A little.”

  “Ringing in your ears?”

  “No.”

  “Feel like you’re going to be sick?”

  “No.”

  “You single?”

  “Wait...huh?”

  He didn’t speak. Just pinned his gaze on me; comfortable in the silence and waiting for me to answer. I, on the other hand, was not so comfortable. The butterflies in my stomach started because there was only one reason to ask. I was not in this guy’s league, I wasn’t in the ballpark; hell, I couldn’t even afford tickets to watch the game. I wasn’t sure who he was but he must be someone of stature based on the mere fact he could afford to rent this beach house for a month.

  “Um, I should really...”

  “It’s an easy enough question, Ellie.”

  I had a feeling I was at a crossroads and my answer here was going to lead me down either the right or wrong path. I wasn’t sure which was which. I could lie to him. I could lie and say I wasn’t single and I have a long-term boyfriend I’m madly in love with…but hormones won out. I didn’t say any of that.

  “Yes, I’m single.”

  A slow grin crept across his face. “Good to know.”

  And that was it. That was all he said and then he got up off the bed, took the first-aid kit with him, and disappeared into the bathroom. Talk about leaving a girl hanging.

  CHAPTER THREE

  She was single. How the hell did that happen? Were the guys in Virginia fucking blind? I didn’t date fans, but I was positive she didn’t have the first clue who I was. It’d be a nice change to
date someone who wasn’t trying to get something from me.

  Just ask her out. You know you’re going to.

  What the hell? I hadn’t been out with someone without an agenda in years. It’d be a nice change of pace. My goal was to relax, and there was nothing more relaxing than getting laid on a regular basis. Assuming she was into it, too.

  I shoved the first-aid kit back where I’d found it and made my way back to the bedroom. She’d gotten off the bed and was standing beside it, tapping her foot, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. As I approached her my cell chirped from the great room.

  “I’d better get that.”

  “Sure. Yeah. Okay,” she said.

  I jogged into the other room and made a dive for my cell.

  “Mason here.”

  “Ah, the prodigal son.”

  “Hey, Mom.” A small amount of trepidation still crept up my spine whenever I heard her voice on the other end of the line.

  “How are you? Where are you?”

  “I’m on a little vacay before the next tour gets up and rollin’. How are you? How are Olivia and Justin?”

  “Oh, they’re good. That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Everything okay?” I asked, the uncertainty in my voice obvious. Justin and Olivia were my half brother and sister, and they meant everything to me.

  “Yeah, yeah. But I wanted to call and see if there’s any chance you could send more money along.”

  Prickles moved from the base of my spine up to my neck where the hairs stood on end. My mother asking for money was never a good thing. I was trying to imagine what she’d gotten herself into now.

  “What happened to your monthly allowance?” I asked.

  “Nothin’ happened to it. I’ve got it but this is for something outside regular expenses.”

  A plethora of different out-of-the-box expenses went through my mind. Namely cocaine, booze, meth, oxy. I could’ve kept going but she cut me off before I could ponder any more of her former vices.

  “It has to do with Olivia’s birthday,” she said.

 

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