Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2)

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Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) Page 15

by Simonne, Andrea


  She’s thoughtful in a way few people notice. Not just a good girl, he realizes, but a good woman.

  He thinks about that dude who came here earlier. Right away, Nathan saw he was exactly the type Blair should be with. Clean-cut. Straight as an arrow. The kind who wears a suit to work every day and doesn’t have a single relative who’s ever been in rehab or prison.

  Shouldn’t have chased him off.

  Nathan knew it was a dick move. He was being an asshole, but couldn’t stop himself. He has no claim to Blair, none at all, but for some reason, it bothered him seeing her with that guy. Though he has to say, the dude split way too fast. Must be dumb as a stump. If that guy was into Blair, he should have listened to her, given her a chance to explain things. So, maybe I did her a favor.

  He knows that’s bullshit, though. Shouldn’t have done it.

  He felt bad laying down the law about his car with her, too. Hated the hurt expression on her face, those tears. Blair crying like a tragic beauty over Isadora. What a terrible sight.

  It had to be done, though.

  Uncle Lance is the closest thing to a father he’s ever had, and Isadora was an extraordinary gift. No one’s ever given him a gift like that. Not ever. That car is not something he can sell or part with and unfortunately, no amount of tears can change it.

  Blair slips her arms out from around his neck. “I need to go to sleep,” she says. “I keep baker’s hours.”

  Nathan nods, part of him wishing there was something he could say to change her mind, though he knows he shouldn’t want it to begin with. “Guess I’ll get some work done.” He needs to check his site stats, make sure everything is running smoothly, and sort through the email from James, his assistant. Needs to get some work done on his book, too.

  And then she turns away and leaves. He’s standing in the kitchen alone.

  He sighs to himself, reaches for the laptop on the counter, and heads into the office he set up. Right away, he sees something missing. What the hell?

  “Where the hell is my computer?” Road is standing in her bedroom doorway, frowning.

  “Uh . . .” Blair’s hands fidget with the night clothes she was ready to change into.

  He watches her, looking more mystified than angry, though she suspects this might change.

  “I have it.”

  “Where?”

  Blair gives him a sheepish smile, puts her pajamas down and goes over to her underwear drawer. She can feel Road’s eyes on her as she shifts stuff aside. She pulls out his computer, notices Isadora’s title in there, too, but realizes she can’t let him see that.

  He’ll know I went through his stuff. I’ll have to sneak in there and put the title back when he’s not around.

  “Here you go,” she says, handing him the computer.

  He takes it from her, then motions with his head over to where she’d hidden it. “What’s in that drawer?”

  Blair pauses. “My underwear.”

  Road’s brows go up and he grins. “You hid my computer with your panties?”

  Her face grows warm.

  He chuckles, but doesn’t seem bothered. “Damn, babe,” is all he says.

  It occurs to her that he’s probably dealt with plenty of over-the-top Skank Factor X antics over the years, and this is tame by comparison.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I was angry.”

  He nods, a grin still tugging at his mouth. “Guess I know where to look next time you get angry.”

  Blair ran her fingers across Road’s chest, over his Metallica T-shirt. His body was solid, but she already knew that from all the times she’d observed him shirtless. As a teenager, it was after football games or in his yard at home, and as an adult, it was when he occasionally helped his mom by mowing her lawn. Twice, she’d been lucky enough to be there when he was out front, cursing and fighting with their worn-out lawn mower. She’d spied on him discreetly through the living room window, though it had never fooled Tori. “Stop ogling my brother. It’s grossing me out.” Understandably, Tori never wanted to know too many details about Blair’s passion.

  “What are you doing?” Road asked in a lazy drawl, as Blair’s fingers continued to trail over the letters for Metallica.

  Her eyes flashed to his face and she could see he was watching her, but in a mellow drunken sort of way.

  “I’m touching you,” she said softly.

  He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. “Feels nice.”

  She smiled to herself and continued stroking, wondered who was getting more out of this, certain it was her.

  Eventually, she changed position. Road’s eyes opened and he took another swallow from the bottle, offering it to her. She took it from him, but instead of drinking, she placed it on the coffee table.

  Road watched her in silence.

  And when she leaned over and whispered, “I want to kiss you,” he stayed silent then, too. His eyes drifted down to her mouth and lower to her body, but that was all.

  Excitement drummed through her. Working her nerve up, Blair moved closer. He was still watching her, and she assumed this meant he was willing. Finally, she made her move and leaning in close, she put her mouth to his.

  I’m kissing Road!

  At long last . . .

  Right away, there was a problem, though. He wasn’t kissing her back. She waited a few seconds, but nothing happened. Blair pulled away, wondering if she’d made a fool of herself. Road’s eyes were closed. Was he asleep? Or maybe he didn’t want this.

  But then his eyes opened. He shifted position as his hands reached for her hips, dragging her closer. Clearly, he’d moved past any conflict he might’ve had.

  “Come here,” he growled.

  And then they were kissing again, only this time he opened his mouth to her, their tongues mingling. Exploring. He tasted like whiskey, but she didn’t mind, even liked it, because the dam had burst and desire was flooding through her.

  So many years of fantasizing about Road, watching and wanting him. Hard to believe it was finally happening. Admittedly, it wasn’t ideal, since she’d prefer he were sober and not in misery over another woman. But Blair was pragmatic, and determined to ignore it and make the most of this.

  His kiss was passionate, if not a little sloppy, but Blair ignored that, too, figured it was just from drinking. She stretched out over him while his hands roamed her body, squeezing her ass.

  Blair kissed him with abandon as she tried to remember everything. Every detail of having her dream come true.

  BLAIR AND ROAD fall into an uneasy truce during the next week. There are no more disputes involving Isadora. He leaves the car keys hanging right by the front door and lets Blair drive Isadora as often as she wants. Of course, what’s left unspoken is that Isadora belongs to him and only him.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she bemoans her situation to Natalie. “I feel like I’ve lost her, even though I’m driving her every day!”

  “Maybe you should talk to a lawyer,” Natalie says, finishing up the butter cream rosettes on a lemon drop cake. “It sounds like it’s time to take it to the next level.”

  That’s the problem. Blair did talk to a lawyer. She called Mia, and Mia didn’t have good news. Mia pointed out something Blair hadn’t even considered. Blair’s condo, all her assets, even her share in La Dolce Vita, all came after her marriage to Road. If Road wanted to, he could ask for half of everything. Of course, there are extenuating circumstances since they were only physically together a few months before he left, plus Road clearly has assets of his own. But the long and short of it is, if she chooses to fight him over Isadora, they could wind up in a long, drawn-out and expensive court battle.

  And then there’s the simple fact that she understands why Road doesn’t want to let go of Isadora.

  Ironically, he wants her for the same reason I do. She means something to him.

  Blair sighs.

  Of course, there’s the other thing which has started to eclipse even her panic about losing I
sadora.

  That kiss.

  Ohmigod.

  She can’t stop thinking about that crazy kiss.

  Especially the expression on Road’s face, right before he kissed her. It was different than the other time they were together years ago. No drunken lust in his gaze. It was soft, something real. Certainly an expression she’d never seen him wear before, and now it’s seared into her brain forever. Hard to ignore when one of your lovesick dreams finally comes true.

  If only Road were actually in love with me.

  But she knows she needs to stop thinking like that. It’s time to end her obsession. Crush it to dust.

  That kiss is making it hard, though.

  So, the uneasy truce between them persists. He hasn’t said anything about moving out, and she hasn’t asked him to, because she doesn’t want him to take Isadora with him.

  She’s been trying to call Graham all week, has left one voice message after another, but he’s ignoring her calls. Her mom’s gallery event is this Saturday, so she has to assume he’s no longer going with her.

  Unfortunately, Tori has been trying to wiggle out of it, too, but Blair keeps reminding her, “I went to your mom’s party.”

  “I know, but that was totally different. There were no,” Tori lowers her voice, “penises involved.”

  Blair laughs. Tori was surprisingly demure sometimes. “They’re cacti.”

  “Please. I think I know a penis when I see one.”

  “I will expect you at my place no later than seven o’clock,” Blair informs her. “We can drive there together.”

  Tori sighs. “Fine. Is Road going?”

  “No, I haven’t invited him.”

  “You should.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Marla keeps sniffing around my mom’s, asking about him. I don’t want him tempted by that bloodsucker.”

  But I don’t want to be tempted by Road. “We’ll see.”

  By Saturday afternoon, Blair is done with her deliveries for the day. She’s changed clothes and has just finished tying a white scarf in her hair when there’s a buzz that someone is at her building’s front door.

  “Yes?” she asks, pushing the intercom button.

  “I’m looking for Nathan Church?” A female voice comes through the speaker.

  Blair pauses. Who the heck is this? Marla? It doesn’t sound like Marla, though. And why would she call him Nathan?

  “I’m sorry, but he’s not here right now.” Road has been out since she got home earlier.

  “So, he lives here?”

  “Yes, he’s staying here, but like I said, he’s not here right now.”

  “I just flew in from New York, and this is the address he gave me. I’m a friend of his.”

  Blair frowns. “Why don’t you try calling him?”

  “I have. Don’t you think I would have thought of that? He’s expecting me. Is this Blair?”

  “Yes, it is.” Blair considers this. Is Road expecting someone? “He hasn’t mentioned any friend visiting.”

  “He must have forgotten. May I please come upstairs?”

  “I have no idea who you are.”

  “You can’t just leave me out here on the street like this! Please!”

  Whoever she is, she sounds desperate. Blair wonders if maybe she’s a traveler friend of Road’s who has run out of money and is maybe even destitute. It would be hard being alone like that in a strange city. Blair hesitates, but then decides to help her and buzzes her inside. She figures they’ll call Road again together. Hopefully, he’ll be back soon anyway. Blair goes into the kitchen to start making herself an iced latte when there’s a knock on her door. Going over, she opens it, completely unprepared for what she sees on the other side.

  It’s Road’s friend.

  And she is gorgeous.

  So gorgeous, Blair is momentarily stunned into silence.

  This woman isn’t having the same reaction to Blair, though. In fact, she barely even glances at her as she turns to some man beside her, instructing him to bring all her luggage inside.

  “Um, what . . . ?” Blair says as they both push past her, the guy dumping a large travel bag and two Louis Vuitton suitcases in the middle of Blair’s entryway. Blair watches in stunned disbelief as this woman pays the man before he leaves, realizing he must be a cab driver.

  Blair’s mouth is open as she stares bug-eyed at all the luggage. She turns to the woman, who is raking her brilliant blue eyes over Blair, an assessing gaze on her astonishingly beautiful face.

  “Who are you again?” Blair asks. It’s obvious this woman is not a poor traveler in need of assistance—far from it. Blair realizes too late it was stupid to let a stranger up here, even one who claims to know Road.

  “You’re Blair?” the woman asks accusingly.

  “Yes, and who are you?”

  She tosses her long, black hair over her shoulder. “Fiona.”

  And then Fiona marches straight into Blair’s condo as Blair watches, stunned. Fiona is wearing a belted leopard-print raincoat with a black skirt beneath it. Her legs are long and shapely, covered in pale, almost white stockings, a pair of black Christian Louboutin’s stiletto pumps on her feet. (Blair recognizes the red soles.) She’d guess her age to be early thirties.

  “This is where you live?”

  “Yes, it is.” Blair isn’t enjoying this woman’s tone at all. “Maybe you can explain who you are and what you’re doing here.”

  Fiona ignores Blair, walks over to the front window, and looks out at the partial water view. “Pitiful. Though I guess it’s better than nothing.”

  Blair studies Fiona’s lithe form from behind, her fall of shiny dark hair, and then it hits her. When Road told her he didn’t want the women at his mom’s party hassling him, Blair thought maybe he wasn’t into Skank Factor X anymore. But now she sees that isn’t it at all. Apparently, Road has moved up in the world.

  Fiona isn’t just Skank Factor X.

  Fiona is Skank Factor X times a million.

  It’s clear all his bitchy girlfriends were pitiful amateurs compared to this.

  Normally, Blair would offer a guest something to eat or drink, but this woman isn’t a guest. Fiona is walking around the living room. She seems inordinately interested in Blair’s bookcase for some reason and starts carefully scanning the titles. She shoots Blair a look. “You’re Nathan’s wife?”

  Blair isn’t sure how to respond to this, so she simply says, “Yes.”

  Fiona’s eyes rake over her again. “Where is your restroom?”

  “Look, I think it would be best all-around if you just called another cab, removed your luggage, and used the restroom at the nearest hotel.”

  The woman gapes at her.

  “I’ll call one for you,” Blair says with a polite smile. “It’s no trouble.”

  “May I at least use your restroom first?”

  Blair wants to tell her no, but then sighs. “It’s straight down at the end of the hall.”

  “Thank you.” Fiona marches off, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, a cloud of expensive perfume trailing behind her. As soon as Blair hears the bathroom door shut, she finds her phone. She doesn’t call a cab yet, but tries to reach Road instead.

  “What’s up, princess?”

  Blair pauses. She hates to admit it, but she loves his voice on the phone. It’s smooth with just the slightest hint of a low growl. “Someone named Fiona just showed up here for you.”

  “Come again?”

  Blair explains how Fiona has apparently arrived from the airport and that a cab driver dumped all her luggage in the entryway. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t believe this,” Road groans. “Unbelievable.”

  “Why is she here?” Blair asks.

  “Look, I’m just around the corner. I’ll be there in a few minutes to take care of this.”

  Blair puts the phone down. She figures Road can sort Fiona out when he gets back here. Maybe they can both go stay at a hotel together.<
br />
  “I called Road,” Blair informs Fiona when she emerges from the bathroom. “He’ll be here shortly.”

  “Perfect.” Fiona walks over to the couch, pushes the bedding Road folded aside and sits down. She pulls her phone out. “I’d like a coffee. I’m on East Coast time.”

  “There’s a Starbucks about a block away from here.”

  Fiona stares up at her with those bright blue eyes. “Is this how you treat all your guests? You’re very rude.”

  “I’m rude?”

  Fiona nods. “Yes, you are. Of course, I understand why now.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I’ve already figured it out.”

  Blair is about to ask her what exactly she’s figured out, but then sees how Fiona is pointing down at the bedding Road folded and stacked. Of course, Blair had to refold it. Not a single corner matched. He may as well just have wadded it into a ball, which is probably what he did.

  “Marital problems?” Fiona smiles with perfect white teeth, though they’re obviously as sharp as knives.

  Blair doesn’t get a chance to respond because there’s the sound of a key in the door. Thank God.

  Road enters and stops for a second when he sees all the luggage piled in the entryway. His expression hardens. “Jesus Christ, Fiona!” He steps around the suitcases, comes toward them and drops his backpack on a kitchen chair. “I told you not to come.”

  Fiona only smiles. She gets up from the couch and saunters over. “Nathan, I’m here because you need me.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.” Fiona stands next to him, and she’s almost as tall as he is in her heels. Her voice softens. “I’m here for you.”

  Road’s face is still hard, but Blair is mostly staring at Fiona. Her skin is pale and luminous, her tawny eyes have a slight tilt at the corners, and her full lips are a perfect cherry red. As much as Blair hates to admit it, Fiona is one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen.

  But this is good. Very good. See? Because now I know what I’m up against and how hopeless anything with Road really is.

  In truth, Blair is mystified why Road isn’t more pleased to see her. Fiona is seriously gorgeous, and she’s high-class Skank Factor X.

 

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