by Layla Hagen
“High school not your favorite scene?”
“Not really.”
“My sister’s wedding is that Saturday. How would you feel about going with me?”
“Very funny,” I said. He wasn’t smiling. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you take someone you don’t know?”
He moved closer. Our arms were touching, and it had the inexplicable effect of making my entire body heat up.
“I know essential information. You blatantly disregard speed limits and have a sassy streak a mile long. Plus, a wedding is a good excuse to give to your high school crowd.” He winked, looking at me expectantly. I was a little stunned, and I scrambled to gather my wits. I was so very tempted to say yes.
“That’s very flattering, but... no offense, I barely know you. Why do you need to take anyone anyway? Go alone.”
“I risk giving my cousin Pippa a reason to exercise her matchmaking skills.”
I cocked a brow, taking a swig of my soda. “You’re asking me to be your protector?”
“Not how I would put it.” He shifted his weight on the leg closest to me, bending slightly at the waist, towering over me. The effect was overpowering. Fire danced in those deep brown eyes as if daring me to say no. Which I did, of course.
“Answer’s no. I still don’t know you.” I liked him, and I’d had a lot of fun this evening. But I’d still met him just two days ago. “And I should get going.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I Ubered here.”
“Where are you going? I can drop you off.”
“I’m headed to Venice. Is that on your way?”
He nodded, but I hesitated.
“I’ve never been on a bike.”
“Come on, first time for everything. Including going to a wedding with a guy you just met.”
I laughed as we crossed the street to his bike. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Detective.”
“When do you have to be there?” he asked.
“I’m meeting someone at a bar near the beach in forty minutes.”
His posture changed. The easy smile from before faded. He shrugged out of his jacket as we reached the bike.
“Just one protective jacket. You’re getting it.”
“The jacket is about five sizes too large.”
“It’ll protect you anyway.”
I put the jacket on, then a helmet. He had two of those. I felt like RoboCop as I climbed behind him on the bike.
“Hold on tight,” he said after I told him the address.
Oh, yeah. Guess what holding on to him meant? I got to keep my palms on the front of his torso. The six-pack complemented his biceps just right. I had to really work at keeping my hands still. I wanted to touch more.... How did he get so ripped? My arms were pressing in on his waist. He didn’t have an ounce of fat.
Will Connor was pure muscle.
Riding a bike was an adrenaline rush; there was no other way to put it. The speed, feeling the wind on my legs. My dress was loose enough that I could spread my thighs comfortably but not be afraid the wind would blow it away. I had the craziest impulse to take my helmet off, feel the wind against my face and in my hair, but I knew it wasn’t safe.
I held on even tighter when Will took a narrow turn, bending the bike at an angle that made me break out in a sweat.
We came to a stop in front of my meeting point with Luna all too soon. I climbed down, careful not to flash Will my underwear, then took off the helmet and the jacket. I smelled a bit like Will now.
Luna was waiting in front of the bar. Her jaw hung loose when she noticed me getting off the bike. Her gaze moved between Will and me.
“Detective, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” she told Will.
I held up the bag. “He helped me pick an alarm for the inn.”
“Want to join us for a drink?” she asked.
“Just the two of you out for girls’ night?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
Will held his hands up, but his smile was back. “I have it on good authority that crashing a girls’ night isn’t a good idea. My sisters drilled it deep in my mind.”
Luna crossed her arms over her chest. “I like you.”
I liked him too. Very much so.
“I insist,” Luna continued. “One cocktail on us?”
“We don’t want to keep you,” I said. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you have plans.”
Will flashed me a devastating smile. I could feel one knee weaken, then the other. He was concocting a plan. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had to do with me.
“I don’t. One cocktail.” That deep baritone voice was exquisite. “Why not?”
One cocktail turned into two, then three. All nonalcoholic for Will. I was mixing it up. The bar was crowded, but we found a table for two. It was tiny, and the three of us crammed around it rather awkwardly. Will was sitting next to me.
He was fun to be around. He knew how to keep the conversation going, shared a lot about himself without dominating the conversation. I learned that in addition to three sisters and two brothers, he also had a one-year-old niece and an eight-year-old nephew that he was quite fond of. He was the son of the sister who was getting married.
Then he told Luna about the wedding, and his relative’s propensity for matchmaking. I was wondering why he brought it up, when he said, “I asked Paige here to go with me and save my ass, but she declined.”
Luna blinked. “Why would you say no?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Will replied.
Well, well, will you look at that. The good detective was playing dirty.
“I’ll let you ponder that, Detective. Some soul searching now and then is healthy, I’ve heard.” I fished a cherry from the bottom of my glass, looking at him over the rim. Sometime during the exchange, he’d moved his hand to the backrest of my seat. One of my shoulder blades was pressing into his bicep. He laid his palm at the end of my other shoulder blade.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Luna informed him.
“I’d appreciate that, Luna,” he said, without taking his eyes off me. He was drumming his fingers on my back, and the muscles strummed tightly together.
“I’ll get going and leave you to enjoy the rest of your girls’ night. Paige, let me know if you need help installing the alarm.”
As he pushed his chair back, our thighs touched. The contact electrified me, sending a bolt of heat from the tips of my breasts right to my center.
“Have fun,” he called before he left. I had a feeling it wasn’t the last time I’d be seeing Will Connor.
“Holy Moses,” Luna exclaimed. “That’s one hot man. Wanna tell me why you’re not going to the wedding with him?”
“I just met him.”
Luna slurped from her cocktail, rolling her eyes. “I think we can rule out him being a serial killer. He’s asked you to a wedding, not a dark alley.”
“I know. But he’s just... I don’t know. Kind of cocky, asking a woman you just met to a wedding.”
“Honey, a man who looks like him can afford to be cocky. Why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re not all over him? You were saying the other night that you’d like to give dating a real shot. Here comes a bachelor who looks like a god, and has a sense of humor and a good job. Explain yourself, friend.”
I pondered this. “I think I’d prefer dating someone whose job doesn’t include the possibility of getting hurt.”
“Oh,” Luna said softly.
“I don’t know... it’s silly. I just don’t like that kind of worry.” Luna would know all about it. We’d been friends since the time my dad was still in the Army.
“Well, it makes more sense than you not being into the kind of hotness Will Connor has going on. I wonder if he’s got a six-pack.”
“He does,” I confirmed. “Felt them when we were on the motorcycle. Had a great excuse.”
Luna ra
ised her glass. “That’s my girl. How’s the inn coming along? Found a handyman?”
“Sent requests to three, waiting to hear about their prices. I’ve made a list of repairs needed—that I could tell, at least. It won’t come cheap. I also want a new coat of paint. Apparently newly painted spaces haul a 5 percent higher price on average.”
“Thank God you don’t have to live there. Living in a place that’s being renovated is my own personal hell.”
Luna had renovated her house last year.
“Was worth it though. I’m still jealous of your place.”
We hung out another two hours at the bar, long after happy hour passed. I’d missed this. In Paris, I’d made a few friends, but I’d never grown as close to anyone as I was to Luna and Faith.
Once we both decided we’d had enough cocktails, we each hopped in a cab.
But by the time I arrived at my apartment, I felt wide awake. So instead of slipping into bed, I started sorting through some old clothes I planned to donate. I should have done this in Paris instead of hauling everything with me, but I hadn’t had time. I set aside a scarf I knew Mom would like, and a lace cardigan. I ended up with a sizable pile of clothes for charity. I filled my largest suitcase with them, which I set by the entrance door, and looked around at my home. I hadn’t wanted to let go of this apartment, so I’d sublet it while I was away. The apartment was in a two-story U-shaped building that boasted an inner courtyard with ferns, small palm trees, and a pergola. The living room was small, but the white kitchen appeared more spacious than it was. As a plus, it boasted a walk-in pantry where I stored clothes.
The occupants hadn’t been careful. Some walls were chipped in places, others had grease stains. My mother had suggested I find another place to live when she’d seen it. She’d also made another offhand comment that had stuck with me.
“Oh, honey, Dad and I bought our house when we were your age. And we had you a few months later.”
The thought that I wasn’t moving forward was nagging at me. I’d peaked in my career two years ago. I’d rejoiced at the time because I’d been the youngest development director in the company. But the next career jump was only possible if my boss quit, and honestly, I didn’t want Greg’s job. I liked mine. On a personal level, I’d had two “serious” relationships before moving to Paris, but I’d never seen those going anywhere. I hadn’t felt either was the one. I was in a funk, that much was clear. But thinking about it in the middle of the night was only going to make it harder to fall asleep. I walked across the cream-colored tile to my bedroom, which was as girly as it got. Most of my sheets were a shade of pink, or flowery.
I had one more thing to do before going to bed: put the alarm in my tote so I wouldn’t forget it in the morning. I grabbed the package, and when I turned it around, I laughed. Will had written his number with a black marker under the instructions.
Here is my number again, just in case. Call me if you need help with the alarm. ;) These things are hard to install.
Chapter Five
Paige
Will hadn’t been kidding about the alarm being difficult to install. I made it to the inn one week later, and I intended to take care of the alarm business before work. But despite reading the instructions a dozen times, watching explanatory YouTube videos, and even perusing a blog by a fellow homeowner who’d installed a similar model, I had yet to make it work, and I was running out of time. One of the companies I’d e-mailed last week had answered, saying their general manager had an opening this morning. I had to leave now to make it in time. I’d tinker with the alarm again in the evening.
The heat was a killer, even at eight o’clock in the morning. I’d forgotten how hot LA could get in the summer, and it was only the second week of July. I foresaw a lot of sweating in my near future. I’d suited up, wearing pants and jacket, and a silk blouse underneath. It was on the conservative side, but experience had taught me that people took me more seriously when I wore a suit.
I was pleased I’d scored a meeting with the general manager. That was usually an indication that he was interested in the project, not just looking for a PR boost. In those cases, I only dealt with the PR and Finance departments.
The offices were on the top floor of a building opposite city hall. I paced the meeting room while waiting for the general manager to join me, going through my pitch. I turned on my heels when I heard the door opening.
“Good morning, Ms. Lamonica. Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m Christian Lackeroy.”
“Good morning, Mr. Lackeroy.”
“Call me Christian.”
I typically didn’t like to be on a first-name basis so early, but the fact that Christian appeared only a few years older than me put me somewhat at ease.
We got right down to business. He interrupted my pitch with well-considered questions, even offering to put me in touch with other businessmen who’d be interested in supporting the cause.
“I’ll be honest. I don’t see this coming to fruition. It’s so specific, and doesn’t scream PR material like green projects.”
“I’m confident I can find other businessmen like yourself who are interested in the cause rather than PR.”
“I like your confidence, Paige. You have my support on this. You’re already in touch with my assistant; e-mail her the documents you want signed. A letter of intent, you said. I’ll have the legal department look over it, and if nothing jumps out, you’ll have it back by the end of the week.”
“Perfect.”
I had a great feeling about this as I exited the office, smack dab into sweltering heat. I took off my jacket, trying to decide where I should work today. I could reach Venice Beach in forty minutes, park myself there for the rest of the day and work on more pitches as well as the redistribution of some incoming funds. But I’d stick out like a sore thumb in my suit. In the end, I decided to head to the office. Air-conditioning beat the ocean breeze when you were wearing a suit.
At lunch, Ashley stopped by with takeout. She was one of the few who preferred to work from the office daily. Midway through our lunch, a bouquet of red roses was delivered. I thanked the delivery boy, bringing them to my office.
“Wowza, those are nice. Who are they from?”
“Christian Lackeroy,” I said, reading the card.
“I’m guessing he liked you more than the project.”
“It would seem so.” I’d felt an overly friendly vibe toward the end of the meeting. The card read I had a lot of fun today. I’d love to take you to dinner. He’d actually signed with his name and position, which I found very tacky.
“Is he attractive?” she inquired.
“You could say that.”
“Take him up on it. You’d have a lot in common.”
Maybe... but as I put the card back, all I could think about was Will Connor in his black leather jacket, smelling like the ocean and the woods, looking like he could fulfill every sinful dream I’d ever had.
Five finished pitches later, I was ready to call it a day. Even though I was in the mood for another girls’ outing, I did the right thing and went by the inn again. I was determined to tackle the alarm. I was also cooking in my suit, so I went through some boxes labeled Paige, hoping I’d find anything to change into. I’d had some old clothes here, and Mom had packed them all up after my grandma passed away so they wouldn’t gather dust.
Bingo! I found a box with clothes from the high school era, back when I’d thought skimpy was the new cool. The only thing that fit me was a very short dress, but it would have to do. I’d been overweight as a teenager, and in the summer before my senior year, I’d gone through a drastic diet and lost thirty pounds. Out went my baggy, tent-sized wardrobe. I’d replaced it with an array of short, tight dresses like this one that were inappropriate for any place except a strip club. I’d wanted to feel beautiful, and I relished the attention I was receiving from boys. Until I realized not all attention was good attention.
I watched the explanatory Yo
uTube videos again, working in tandem to set up the alarm—to no avail. I couldn’t make it work.
I turned to the back of the package, reading the instructions again... and Will’s number. I’d saved his number in my phone after he gave me the second card, but I liked a man who covered his bases. And well, if the sexy detective had offered his help, why not take him up on it? I could call my father too, he was handy with security systems, but he and Mom had a date tonight, and I didn’t want to interrupt. My brother wasn’t much of a techy, and neither were my sisters. And I couldn’t deny it; I looked forward to hearing Will’s sexy baritone voice.
“Detective Will Connor,” he answered. His voice was even sexier than I remembered.
“Hey, Will. This is Paige. The alarm is giving me headaches. Maybe if I walk you through what I’m doing you can tell me where I’m going wrong?”
“I’ll do one better. I’ll stop by and show you how to install it.”
My pulse intensified. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m sure I’m on the right path.”
“It’ll be quicker if I do it. I’ll bring dinner too. Do you like Thai food?”
“Love it. Especially masala curry with shrimp.”
“I’ll stop by with curry.”
After ending the call, I took a good look at myself in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door. Maybe I’d been too harsh on the poor dress. I’d always been extra judgy of my past fashion choices. No way was I changing back into my pants. My silk shirt had perspiration stains at the armpits. This dress would have to do.
I was glad that he was bringing dinner because I was starving. I had some wine left from when the girls had been here. I hoped Will liked it. I was wringing my hands for no reason at all, so to give myself something to do, I looked up real estate prices, trying to estimate how much we could get for the inn.
It had two stories and ten bedrooms, most on the upper floor. My grandma had called it a home for the unpretentious tourist. The bedrooms were spacious, but sparsely decorated, with simple wood double beds and matching small closets. Some rooms even had a small desk. The ground floor had a towering double-story ceiling and walls of glass to give the impression of a larger area. The living room was separated in a dining area and a seating area with an assortment of couches that didn’t fit together, ranging from leather to floral prints. The kitchen was completely separate. It had been the family space and grandma’s favorite room. We’d spent a lot of time in here, Grandma cooking and me eating everything.