by Kacey Shea
“Yeah.” She crouches to give Walter a quick pat on the head, then stands, sliding on a pair of shades from her bag and strutting toward the door. Damn. She could be one of the actors on set, she’s that beautiful. Though, part of me is thankful she’s not. There are people who handle that kind of fame really well, but for most . . . well, it goes to their head. Makes them feel above others. Elitist. Rachel isn’t at all like that. She may work on the top movie set with the most famed actors, but at the end of the day she can still walk down Hollywood Boulevard without getting mobbed.
Or at least I hope.
Maybe she’ll allow me to take her out to dinner tonight. To test my theory.
I swipe my keys and grab my coffee off the counter. A chuckle leaves my lips. Walter usually waits for me to pocket my keys before skittering to the door, but today, he’s raced ahead. Following Rachel. “You have a shadow.”
Rachel glances down, her lips pulling with a grin.
Walter whines, his big eyes glued to the door, but he doesn’t move from her side.
“He’s okay here by himself?”
“He’ll live.”
“He’s the sweetest.” She smiles and rocks from side to side, her skirt swishing around her legs. “You’re gonna miss me, aren’t you?”
Hell, yes. I almost respond before I realize she’s talking to the dog. Fuck, he really is winning more points than I am. “Stay.” I point at Walter.
“You know, you really don’t need to drive me.”
“No. I do.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll catch an Uber after work.”
“You better not.” I open the door for her.
She doesn’t move. “But that really puts you out. Honestly, Jude. I don’t mind.”
“I like driving you.” The moment the words fly from my lips I realize it’s the truth. I enjoy spending time with her, so much that I’m hungry for any opportunity. Can’t get enough. Don’t want to waste a precious minute. Which is insane. Crazy. So unexpected, I can hardly accept these feelings. Especially considering we haven’t so much as kissed. I’d kiss her right now, but I enjoy her friendship. Value it. I don’t want to ruin what we have, and that only makes me want her more. God, what is wrong with me? Is this how it happens? Why my friend Chance is so devoted to Aubrey? Is Rachel my Aubrey? Am I ready for that? A wave of nerves crash over me with the force of the entire fucking ocean. Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna pass out. Or puke. Good God, man. Get a grip.
Walter whines at the open door, the fact neither of us have moved through it making him more anxious.
“Jude?” Rachel says, her tone laced with concern.
“Bring him with,” I manage to grunt out, needing to divert her attention from the loss of blood flow to my brain. I grab the leash and drag in a breath, steeling my rattled senses.
Walter goes berserk at the sight of the leash, dancing in circles and hopping on his hind legs with appreciative yips. The distraction works.
Rachel laughs, I hook the leash to his collar, and the three of us retreat into the elevator with her focus on my dog.
We exit and pass my fleet of custom cars to get to the SUV. I don’t mention they’re mine. Pointing them out seems pretentious, and she won’t be impressed. Besides, I have to take the Escalade. I need to drop off the spanking bench to my storage unit before swinging by Pierce’s place later to check on the basement remodel.
Rachel climbs in as soon as I unlock the doors. I don’t hold her door, and in the back of my head I hear my mom’s disappointed voice. I raised you better. Shaking it off, I open my door. Walter hops in, finding a place on Rachel’s lap. I’d move him to the back seat, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and I still lack the capacity to form a normal sentence. Flipping on the radio, I focus on getting her to work without causing a fender bender.
Is Rachel my Aubrey? The question repeats in my mind like a bad pop song. Obviously, I’m attracted to Rachel. I’m attracted to a lot of women. Only, you couldn’t get it up for Jenese the other night. Fuck. I blow out another frustrated breath. I don’t want to think about this now. Not when Rachel’s perfume fills the cab of my SUV. So damn enticing. Or when her hot-as-fuck lipstick begs to steal my attention from the road. That color should be illegal. And especially not when I’m just discovering how kickass she is. Each day she opens up a little more, and I feel as though there’s still so much to learn about her and her life. Hell. How can I possibly have genuine feelings? This must be infatuation. That’s got to be it. Or maybe Mercury is in retrograde again.
So I like her. That doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to flip my world on its axis. I have no room in my life for that, and I won’t be played a fool. Not even for love.
The music is interrupted with an incoming call. Mark’s name flashes across my SUV’s digital dashboard. Mark, my mechanic. I send him to voicemail with the flick of a button and avoid Rachel’s stare. Not that she’s remotely paying attention, what with Walter on her lap. Lucky bastard. He’s getting more action than I am these days.
Thankfully, Americana isn’t far from my condo. The ride goes quickly and the further we drive, the more settled I become. I’m going to take this next week to get to know Rachel. There’s no harm in that. At the end of the week I’ll have worked through this fascination. If I play my cards right, she’ll invite me to join her in my bed. Once we fuck, I won’t be so conflicted. I’m certain of it. As I pull up to the front gate, I exhale a sigh of relief. “This good?”
“Perfect.” Rachel cradles Walter to her chest, giving him a kiss on the head before she hands over his leash and slides from the passenger seat. “Have a good day.”
“Me or the dog?”
Her gaze catches mine and she grins. “Both. Obviously.” Her bag begins to ring, and she pulls out her phone, all humor draining from her face. She silences her cell and slides it back into her bag.
Protectiveness fills my veins. “Who was that? One of your roommates?”
“No.” She bites at her bottom lip. “Just something I’d rather not deal with. I have enough problems right now, what with being homeless and carless.” Her feeble attempt at humor does nothing to diffuse the worry from her frown or mine. “Anyway, thanks again for driving me, and letting me crash at your place.”
“Yep.” My throat burns with deceit. An odd feeling because I don’t tend to question my decisions. Maybe I should’ve answered Mark’s call with her in the car. But I didn’t, because I don’t want her to know the cost of the repairs. Now more than ever, I want to take care of this for her. Does the end justify the means? God, I hope so. Not that I can ever tell her. Still. I don’t lie. I wouldn’t, but the truth will only hurt her. She has enough on her plate; I won’t add to it. Forcing a casual grin, I raise my hand and wave. “Text me when you’re done for the day.”
“I will. Thanks.” She shuts the door.
I heave a sigh of relief. Jesus. What’s wrong with me? It’s one little fib. I pull from the curb and return the missed call.
“Hey, Jude. I was just leaving you a message.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No worries. I have good news! The LeSabre’s ready. Let me know where you want her dropped, and I’ll have one of the guys take care of it this afternoon.”
My stomach twists with the news. No. Rachel’s vehicle cannot be ready yet. I’ve just gotten her in my place. We’re vibing. She’s letting me in. Bringing back her car will ruin everything. She won’t have any reason to stay at my place, and I’ll have no reason to persuade her to stay. Obviously, I can’t keep it from her forever, but I need a few more days. I need the weekend.
“I’ll pay you extra to keep it until next Monday.”
Mark chuckles. “You don’t need to do that. I can store it in the garage a few more days, no problem.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. It’s not a problem, Jude. Hell, you send me enough business, it’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks, Mark.” I end the c
all, but my stomach doesn’t settle. It twists with a bit of guilt. Am I doing the right thing? I want Rachel. God, do I want her. But is this taking things too far? I’ve never been one to meddle with fate, but when it comes to her, I’m willing to go to extremes. Besides, it’s not as if this little lie hurts anyway. If anything, it makes her life better. “You don’t want Rachel to leave, do you?” I say to Walter. He blinks up at me from his spot on the seat. He whines a little at the passenger door.
“Of course she should stay.” I hate the thought of her moving back with her horrible roommates. If I fudge the truth and keep her car from her a few more days, is it really such a bad thing?
25
Rachel
Crap. Crap. Crap. I paste a smile on my face and make my way through the lot to the studio. I can’t believe Ethan would call again. And yet, I can. I don’t want to be on his radar. One of the benefits to starting over in a new city was that I’d never have to see him again. Now. Now, I can only hope I don’t run into him when he’s in Los Angeles for work. What if he’s already here? The thought causes me to dig my phone back out of my purse. But before I can check my voice message, a barrage of texts from my brother comes through.
Jared: What the hell, Rae?
Jared: You trying to give me a heart attack?
Jared: Why aren’t you staying at your apartment?
Jared: Is this a new man? Who is he? I need to know everything. And I mean EVERYTHING.
Jared: Wait.
Jared: HOLY. SHIT.
Jared: NO. Please tell me you aren’t with Ethan right now?
Jared: Tell me! OMG this is all my fault.
I let loose a groan. This morning is off to a rough start. Besides the snuggles with Walter, and the fact I have this job, not much is going right. Needing to put my brother out of his imagination-induced misery, I type as I make my way to where I need to clock in.
Me: First. NO I am not with Ethan. Ew. Next. My roommates and I had a falling out and I’m staying with a friend. I’m fine. Don’t worry. Last. Don’t call because I’m walking into work and I haven’t had coffee. LOVE YOU!
“Everything okay, baby doll?” De’Shaun asks, his gaze flicking down to my cell phone.
“Yeah,” I lie, but by his raised eyebrow I must do a poor job of convincing him. It’s probably unprofessional of me, but I could use an impartial opinion. “Actually, no.” I clock in to work using the electronic kiosk and scoot to the side so he can do the same. “Iron Maiden is out of commission, my roommates are thieves, I’m shacking up with a billionaire, and my brother won’t stop blowing up my phone.” Oh, and my cheating ex wants to have dinner. I don’t add that last part. I left Ethan in Chicago. I refuse to talk about him to any of my new friends.
De’Shaun blinks a couple of times before answering. “Honey, you’re living some Days of Our Lives shit right there. Come on.” He slings his arm around my shoulder and steers us toward the craft table. “Let’s get some food and you can tell me all about it. I promise things are always worse than they seem in the middle of the storm. You just need some help finding a rainbow.”
I exhale and spend the next few minutes filling De’Shaun in on all the details of the past week. He’s a great listener and while part of me feels bad for unloading my life’s drama on him, he did ask for it. Besides, there’s something about him that makes me instantly comfortable. Maybe it’s because he’s been nothing but kind, showing me the ropes and helping me settle into this role. Or maybe my soul recognizes his as a kindred spirit. Hair and makeup have to stick together.
“So car trouble and housing situation aside, it sounds like you might actually like this guy. The billionaire.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” De’Shaun picks a grape off the stem and shrugs before popping it in his mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting your feelings. Not like I’m going to tell anyone. Besides, if he’s loaded . . .”
“That’s the problem.” I pick apart what’s left of the pastry on my plate. “I’ve always gone for guys like that. Ones who are so willing to help me out or play the savior when I need it. It’s all fun and games until you find him cheating on you with his secretary.”
“Mmm hmm. I feel you there, sis.”
“Right?” I bite at the inside of my cheek. “I have no interest in getting my heart broken. I don’t even have a working car. And I sure as hell don’t want to go back to my apartment.” Though it’s probably inevitable, I’d like to put it off for at least a few more days.
“Well, I’m not sure a vehicle or a place to stay has anything to do with your heart. But I do see your point. Only thing is . . .”
I swallow the last piece of my pastry and toss the plate into the nearby trashcan, waiting for De’Shaun to continue.
He chews the last of his food, and I swear there is a hint of a smile as he makes me wait. “You plan on keeping that heart locked up forever?”
His pointed question catches me off guard. “No,” I say more forcefully than I intend. “It’s just not a good time. I know myself. And I’m trying not to repeat old habits.”
“And I have nothing but respect for that.” De’Shaun tosses his plate in the trash and holds up his hands. “Just be careful you don’t close yourself off so tightly that you forget to let the light in. We all deserve a little sunshine.”
Is that what I’m doing? Have I cast Jude into a role based on my unwillingness to move from the past? Yeah, he has money. He’s cocky and self-assured, but that’s where the similarities between him and my past boyfriends end.
“Come on, let’s get to work. Those questions crinkling your forehead can wait. Hair and makeup for our leading lady can’t.”
I nod and smile, keeping pace with his long strides. “Thank you,” I say, and at his odd expression I continue, “For listening.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Friends. Damn. His admission warms my heart more than he’ll ever know.
26
Jude
Work keeps me busy and I score a few big finds for two clients—a 1954 Packard Panther in mint condition for a real estate mogul in Beverly Hills, and a set of Hungarian stacking dolls—the perfect gift for another client’s grandmother. There’s a natural high that comes from closing a deal, the satisfaction of another happy customer, and when I receive a text from Rachel at the end of the day, I’m already in a good mood. The promise of spending time with her only makes it better. I grab Walter’s leash and he bounds from his spot on the couch with the same excitement I feel.
As we pull into the lot, I notice her immediately. She lifts her head. The smile that lights up her face the second she spots my approaching vehicle rattles something solid inside my chest.
Walter props his front paws on the door and whines. I grab his leash before she opens the door, then scoop him onto my lap. He continues to whine and tug on the leash in an attempt to get closer to Rachel.
“Hey!” She opens the door, her eyes meeting mine, then brightening when they land on Walter. She slides into the seat and buckles up. “You brought my buddy.” She holds her hands out, her smile wide and open. She claps her hands and he bounds over the center console, tackling her with a flurry of kisses. I open my mouth to scold him, or at the very least apologize, but before I do her laughter fills the vehicle. I’ve spent enough time with women to know there aren’t many like her. She’s dressed up, her hair and makeup perfect. Yet she’s not worried about a little dog hair or slobber.
“I think Walter missed you,” I deadpan as I shift into drive and wind my SUV back into traffic.
She giggles as he licks at the bare skin on her neck. “I see that.”
“Walter. Enough.”
“He’s fine.” She lifts her gaze and I’d like nothing more than to kiss away the sweet smile that plays on her lips.
“Hungry? You didn’t have dinner yet?” Can she hear the hopefulness in my tone? I don’t even care if she does, because as
much as I’d like to play it cool, I’d like to have dinner with her more.
“No, and I’m famished.”
“Good. I have the perfect place.” I can’t keep the grin from my face. “Unless you have other plans?”
“Nope.” She strokes the back of Walter’s fur. “Do we need to drop this guy home? Should I change?”
You’re perfect. “Actually, he’s going to join us.”
“Oh?” Her brows lift with her gaze. “You have me intrigued.”
“Good.” I wink. That’s exactly how I want you.
It takes about twenty minutes before we pull into the street parking within walking distance to one of my favorite oceanside cafes. The food is good, the wine is better, but the rooftop view is why I never regret dropping a hundred or two on dinner. Besides, they’re pet friendly and Walter’s practically a local celebrity.
“Jude! We haven’t seen you in a while.” The owner greets us with a wide smile.
“It’s good to see you, Gio. I didn’t make a reservation.”
“Pssh.” He waves off my comment. “We always have room for Walter.”
“What about me?” I pretend to be offended.
“Make me a deal, and maybe I can find an extra chair.”
Rachel observes our banter in silence, but by the hint of her smile she finds it entertaining.
“I’ll order your best bottle of Merlot.”
“You’ve got yourself a table.” Gio holds out his hand and we shake on it. “Nessa, please show Mr. Lawrence to his table.”
A pretty young woman grins. “Right this way, sir.”
I press my hand to the small of Rachel’s back, taking any excuse to touch her, no matter how simple it might be. My fingers tingle with the desire for more. The growing hunger in my belly has nothing to do with the pasta and fresh seafood Gio’s chefs whip up inside the kitchen. I’m a man starved. Each smile, laugh, or look she grants only fuels my desire.
“How’s this for you?” Nessa asks.