Love of Steele

by Ivy Raine

  Stash punched down the gas. “I guess I was wrong about you, Miss Marta. You’re nothing but a spoiled brat. A guy does something nice and you treat him like shit. Typical woman.”

  Now, that sent a streak of ire straight up and out the top of her head. “Spoiled brat? Typical woman?”

  “Yes,” he reiterated. “Yes, you are.”

  “For your information, Stash Steele, I grew up in a patch town and wore hand me downs. My parents couldn’t afford to send me to the college I really wanted to go to, so I settled for state college and worked my way through. I have zero credit card debt, I own this trap you’re claiming half of, and I’m a virgin! How in the hell is that a spoiled brat?” Marta heard the proverbial pin drop. “Yep. Thought so, now take it all back!”

  After a few thoughtful moments, Stash glanced over at her. “So, you’re a virgin, huh?”

  Marta’s eyes grew round and she could feel the heat bubbling up again. “That’s all you got out of it? You glossed right over the important stuff and settled with that?”

  Stash shrugged. “I thought that was the important stuff.”

  “And you call me typical,” she grumbled. “Keep driving and don’t stop. I don’t care if we circle the city a hundred times. I want that tank empty.”

  Reaching over, Stash grabbed at her fingers that were clutched together on her lap. “I apologize. You’re not a spoiled brat. Anyone who’s been deprived of sex is definitely not spoiled.”

  Marta swatted his hand away. “No one ever said I was deprived of sex,” she hissed. “I choose to abstain.”

  Oh, what a liar she was, but there was no way she was going to tell Stash that options weren’t exactly popping up all around her – at least not in recent years.

  “So, we have a picky one, do we?”

  “So, what. Better to be picky than to get something icky.”

  “Hey!” Stash said, his face lighting up. “That’s a great slogan? Wonder if anyone’s used it yet? Oh, cheer up,” he said, noticing the smirk on Marta’s face. “Let’s get something to eat. It’s lunch time and I’m starving.”

  “Hmm. Starvation. I suppose that could be a solution to my problem, but then they’d probably arrest me for refusing to feed you.”

  Stash whipped the van into the northbound lane and got off at the first exit. “The only trouble with your solution is the fact that I hold the majority of the money, honey. So, if anyone’ll starve, it’ll be you.”

  Marta slapped the outside of her hips. “Not for a while. I could forego food for a month and still be alive. You, on the other hand.” She stopped herself from going on about his physique. He already had a big head.

  “Stop with the self-inflicted insults.” There he was again – using those eyes of his to undo the buttons on her blouse. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you how incredibly sexy you are? Everything about you from the way your hair curls up right down to your toe ring.” He grinned. “Thought I didn’t notice that little touch.”

  Marta pulled her feet back a little. That toe ring was one of the few pieces of bling she allowed herself, and it wasn’t exactly expensive. As a matter of fact, it was all of twenty-five cents. It was kind of a good luck keepsake she’d had since that fateful summer six years earlier – back when she was still skinny.

  “Check this out!” Kyle rolled the sparkling piece of jewelry between his thumb and index finger. “Looks real.”

  “Lucky quarter.” Marta looked at the vending machine and wondered why she never got cool stuff like that. She dropped her quarter in and spun the knob. Out popped the egg. She didn’t even have to open it. “Another tattoo.”

  “Sit down.” Kyle grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down on the bench lining the wall of the exit foyer of Copetti’s Market. “I’ll trade you. I’d look gay with a toe ring, anyway.” Pulling off Marta’s sandal, Kyle stopped and inched his hand up her freshly shaved leg. “Nice.”

  Marta caught his hand before it could go above her knee. “Try not to forget you have a girlfriend, idiot.”

  Kyle shoved the ring on Marta’s toe and tossed her sandal in her lap. “She’s not my girlfriend. Just because I screwed her doesn’t mean we’re dating.” A rush of fear contorted his face. “She didn’t say we were dating, did she?”

  Though Kyle was her best friend and she normally wanted the best for him, Marta couldn’t help but be amused. “You know, you wouldn’t have to find a way out if you simply didn’t get in.”

  Pulling Marta to her feet, Kyle let his gaze linger a little too long on her full, burgundy mouth. “I wouldn’t have to get in at all if you’d help a pal out.”

  A car horn blared, dragging Marta out of her daydream.

  “Keep your eyes on the road, if you don’t mind. I have the bare minimum insurance, and if you dent this thing, you own it.”

  “In or out.”

  “What?” Marta’s heart did a little skip.

  “Do you want it in or out?”

  “Neither! And if you don’t get your mind out of the gutter, you’re likely to find the rest of your body in there with it.” Marta crossed her arms and sat back in her seat.

  What started out as a chuckle ended in a full-out belly laugh. “I meant the food, you little goof ball. Do you want to eat in or out?”

  A burning flame couldn’t compare to the heat in Marta’s cheeks. “You did that on purpose, and to answer your question, I don’t care. You’re paying.”

  “Then it’s in,” he said. “In’s better anyway. And yes, I meant that just the way you think I did.”

  Marta eyed him up. “You do realize you’ve still got grease smeared across your forehead, don’t you?”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Does that embarrass you?”

  “It’s not me I’m thinking about, but if you want to look like something my cat dragged in, then by all means, be my guest.”

  “Hmm. Now that you mention it,” he said, sparing one more quick look, “I do look pretty haggard.”

  Haggard wouldn’t exactly be the word Marta would use to describe him. Rugged, maybe, but definitely not haggard.

  Stash pulled into the parking lot of a steak and seafood restaurant that Marta had never heard of. “This’ll do.” He shifted into park and turned to Marta. “You’re not vegetarian, I hope.”

  “No, way. Life’s too short.” She plunged down into her bag and pulled out a mini pack of baby wipes. “Here,” she said, gripping his chin with her left hand. “This probably won’t get all of it, but it’ll help.”

  Pampering agreed with Stash. He sat there with his eyes closed while Marta scrubbed his entire face. “I’m glad you’re not a vegetarian. I like a girl who likes her meat.”

  Marta stuffed the baby wipe in between his lips.

  “Hey!” He spit it out and caught her wrist. “Have those lips ever been kissed?”

  Marta tried to wiggle her arm free, but his grip was too tight. “What do you think I am? A total prude? Of course I’ve been kissed.” As soon as the words were set free, her mind escaped to the year her life changed forever.

  “That’s gross. I just watched you tongue lash the blonde chick twenty minutes ago, and now you want to kiss me?” Marta shivered and stepped sideways to put more distance between them. “No thanks.”

  Kyle kicked at the gravel along the street as they headed home from the bus stop. “She said I sucked. I just wanted another opinion.”

  Memories of the past collided with the present when Stash pressed his lips against hers, and ended when his tongue decided to play hide and seek with her tonsils. For a moment, it almost felt as though Kyle was there with her.

  Regaining her senses, Marta pulled away. “What’s your angle, Steele?” She was practically undone, but there he sat, calm and collected.

  He flicked the hair out of her eye. “No angle. I’ve just been fantasizing what your lips would feel like ever since you blew by me back in New Jersey.”

  She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. “A
nd?”

  He grinned. “Let’s just say it was more than I bargained for. Now!” he said, clapping his hands and chopping the moment right off. “Let’s go eat.”

  The sound of clanking silverware greeted them when they stepped through the doors, and Marta had their table all picked out before the waitress even realized they were there.

  “What do you think about corner tables, Stash?” Marta nodded to a booth in the far right corner of the restaurant.

  “My favorite – as long as I get to watch the door.” Stash waved to the waitress and pointed to the table. “We’d like that one.”

  All five feet of the petite waitress seemed to shiver with excitement at the prospect of waiting on Stash. Of course that could have been Marta’s wild imagination, but when the tiny, ball of energy never even acknowledged she was there, that was all the proof Marta needed.

  “Wow,” Marta said when the waitress was out of ear shot. “Do you have that effect on all women?”

  “All but one.” He raised a brow and blew her a kiss.

  “Don’t be stupid, Stash. We’re only friends – I think. Or are we even that? I don’t think I know you well enough to even consider you a friend.”

  “Well,” he said, glancing down over the menu, “you’d better get to know me in a hurry, because we’re rooming together when we get to Connecticut. Purely platonic, of course.”

  Marta slapped her menu shut. “I certainly hope you’re not that delusional.”

  “I think I’ll have the steak and baked potato. What about you? And no,” he said, patting her clenched fist, “I’m not delusional. I’m simply realistic.”

  “Grilled chicken with avocado salad. And yes. You are delusional. I’m taking my ass and hauling it right back to New Jersey.”

  Stash grinned and let out an evil laugh. “Not with my seventy-two dollars you’re not.”

  “That’s kidnapping!”

  Stash folded his menu and placed it gently on the table. “Marta, dear,” he said, folding his hands together. “Either you come along willingly or you stay behind. Neither option constitutes kidnapping.”

  “Maybe not,” she snapped, “but it does constitute theft!”

  “Technically not. The gas belongs to me. I’m only using what I paid for. If I pay for a drink, I drink it. If I pay for a meal, I eat it. If I pay for a woman – well, you get the picture. Think of it like this. I’m saving you from yourself.”

  “Ha! I didn’t realize I was such a danger to myself. Maybe you should keep sharp objects and pretty liquids away from me, too.”

  Stash gathered the menus and slid them to the edge of the table. “It’s the pole or me, baby. What’ll it be?”

  Marta was never more thankful for the buzzing in her bag than she was right at that moment. Digging down in, she brought out her cell. A text from her mom. She remembered telling her she’d text her after her interview. Too bad Marta didn’t have good news to pass along.

  “Boyfriend?”

  Stash sure knew how to annoy.

  “My mother. She wants to know how it went.”

  Marta hated telling her what happened, because she knew her mother would expect her home pronto. She cringed at the thought of going back to the same stale routine. Her last job had been delivering flowers for Patti’s Floral. She liked it well enough, and she was sure she could have it back any time she wanted it, but everyone knew she was heading off to the city for her dream job. To go home would mean letting the wretched Lincoln twins bask in their justification to look down their noses at her.

  Marta shook her head. “I can’t go back. I won’t go back. They can all just think I’m sitting up in my office making seventy grand a year. And who knows,” she said, punching away on her cell phone, “in a few months I might be doing just that.”

  Not until after she hit ‘send’, did Marta realize the trouble she was in. Stash, however, reveled like the spider sitting in the web.

  “You’re gonna like Connecticut. It’s clean and quiet. A perfect place to wait this thing out.”

  “I’m not going to Connecticut!” Marta dodged Stash’s grab for her hand and dropped her cell back down in her bag. “I plan on finding a job right here in the city, and the first stop I intend to make is over to Steele and Company. I hear they pay better than Elliot Enterprises.”

  Stash grunted. “You’ll be the one paying – until the jerk who owns the place gets tired of you and moves on to the newest flavor of the month.”

  That all sounded a little too bitter for Marta to believe there was no relation between him and the man in question. “And you know this, how?”

  Stash looked her square in the eye and didn’t blink. “He’s my brother, that’s how. And if you want some friendly advice, steer clear of Steele and Company. If he can toss his own brother under the bus, imagine what he’d do to a little, country virgin like yourself.”

  Things were now beginning to make sense. “This woman that made you into the angry bastard that you are – any connection to your brother?”

  Stash pulled back inside his little shell, taking with him the dangling strings of raw anger and hurt. “They’re made for each other. A match made in hell. He’s rich and good looking and she’s a red-hot, gold digging tramp. The perfect combination until someone richer and hotter comes along and then they’re both hung out to dry.”

  Not quite sure what to say, Marta stumbled over her words. “Oh. Well, sorry to hear that. I guess. But it’s good you found out now before it was too late.

  “Too late for what?”

  Was he that dense? “Before you married her, of course.”

  The mere word sent Stash recoiling back against his seat. “That’ll never be an issue. The day you see me walking down the aisle of death, is the day I drink the arsenic. That shit’s not for me.” He eyed her up. “Is that all you women think about? Getting married and making babies?”

  Marta wanted to pick up the fork and jab him. “Just because we think about it on occasion doesn’t mean it rules our lives. We have self-control. Too bad it skipped over your gender.”

  Stash wasn’t done. “You’re right. Women have the ultimate self-control. They’re cut-throat cool in every aspect of their lives, right down to choosing their mate.”

  If he wasn’t so damn good looking… Marta stopped herself and took a deep breath. “Maybe if men had better self-control, they’d pick their mate with their head instead of their hormones.”

  In an unusual display of self-restraint, Stash didn’t utter a word.

  Chapter 3

  “Keys. Hand them over.” Marta held out her hand and tapped her foot on the hot pavement. “I’ll syphon the gas right out onto the parking lot and you can follow the stream to Connecticut – alone.”

  The grimace on Stash’s face matched his soured disposition, but he managed to let go of the keys.

  “What’s wrong with Connecticut?” he said, jumping in the passenger’s side before Marta could get away. “I’m assuming you left your cell number with Elliot’s, right? So, why don’t we head up there and get jobs until they give you a call to come back for an interview?”

  It all sounded way too simple.

  “And what if they never call me? What if I’m stuck in Connecticut – with you?” she added, curling her lip up in a snarl.

  “Then you can count yourself lucky. It’s not every woman I allow up close and personal access to myself. As a matter of fact,” he said, “most women would be begging me for the opportunity.”

  Marta rolled her eyes and started the van. “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not ‘most women’, now isn’t it?”

  “For you, maybe.”

  The sexual tension was constricting the oxygen supply in the van and Marta needed air. The cool breeze, city smells and all, felt good against her hot cheeks.

  “There’s just no way this would work.” She couldn’t believe she was even remotely entertaining the idea of zipping off to Connecticut with a complete stranger.

/>   Stash was quick to pick up on the lone drop of promise in her voice. “Why not? I’ve got enough money to get us there and pay a month’s worth of bills. Do you realize how much rent is here in the city? You’d never get a place to stay without putting down a security deposit and at least the first month’s rent. That would run you into several thousand dollars – dollars you don’t have, according to you.”

  The reality of the situation smacked Marta right in the face. “Shit! Why did I have to go and tell her I got the job?” Marta’s heart pounded a million miles a minute.

  Stash rubbed her shoulder and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Because you secretly desire to follow me to the ends of the earth.”

  She shoved him away. “Be serious! I’m in real trouble, here!”

  “I am serious,” he said. “And no you’re not. All you have to do is point this hunk of metal toward Connecticut and hit the gas. Simple as that. Um, make a left up here,” he said, pointing to the six lane highway buzzing with cars blowing by in a blur.

  “What’s in Connecticut, anyway?” Marta merged into traffic, not know where she was going or how she was getting there.

  “I told you. Peace, quiet, clean.”

  “What about jobs? You mentioned something about those about a mile back.”

  Stash shrugged. “I’m sure we can work that in there, too.”

  Marta gripped the wheel and went over the list in her head. A job was paramount. So was a place to live and one square meal a day. She took a deep breath and glanced over at Stash. How could someone who had very little to his name be ultra-confident in light of their current situation? Peeling her eyes away from his loveliness, Marta focused on the road. Stash was right. She had a measly thirty-two dollars to her name and no way of getting more unless she called home and begged, and that was not going to happen. The words that flowed out of her mouth broke out from a cage somewhere deep inside of her.

  “Fine. We’ll go to Connecticut. Now, how do we get there?”

  Stash pointed straight ahead. “You’re already on your way, beautiful.”