The Girl of His Dreams (Bachelor Book 1)

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The Girl of His Dreams (Bachelor Book 1) Page 4

by Janet Nissenson


  Aubrey hesitated for a few seconds before shrugging her shoulders. “Sure, I’d love to have lunch with you. But I might need a few minutes to clean up a bit, use the outdoor shower and beach restrooms over by the parking lot.”

  “Tell you what.” Jordan picked up her bamboo beach mat and began rolling it up. “There’s much nicer restrooms - not to mention indoor showers - right near the main pool area at the Gregson. Just use my card key to gain access. Meanwhile, I’ll order up lunch for us and everything will be waiting for you.”

  She picked up her well worn canvas backpack. “You really are persistent, aren’t you?” she teased.

  Jordan placed a hand on the small of her back, thinking it was fortunate that the beach towel covered that part of her body, since he wasn’t sure his self control could handle touching her bare skin right about now. “I prefer to think of it as persuasive,” he answered lazily. “And fair warning, Aubrey Larson - I can be very, very persuasive when it comes to something I want badly.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” she retorted, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “I’m just surprised you haven’t bragged yet about what a great bedside manner you have, being a doctor and all.”

  He grinned down at her wickedly, then gave in to temptation and slid his arm around her narrow waist, hugging her close against his body. “Darlin’, my bedside manner - and trust me, it’s the greatest - has little to nothing to do with the fact that I’m a doctor.”

  Chapter Four

  “I’ve reconsidered my decision, you guys. I’m going to call him and cancel tonight. Or maybe I should just text him, what do you think? Because if I talk to him he’s going to go all out and try to change my mind. Yeah, a text is much better, right?”

  “Wrong.” Melanie, one of Aubrey’s two roommates, shook her curly red head emphatically. “Because you are not calling or texting or emailing or making any other chickenshit moves. What you are going to do is go out with hot doctor tonight, and stop changing your mind every five minutes.”

  Jenna, her other roommate, nodded in agreement. “Mel’s right. Why not go out and enjoy yourself, especially if he’s springing for dinner at the Seven Palms. That place is the only restaurant in all of Hawaii with three Michelin stars, you know. I’d kill for the opportunity to work in that kitchen, even if I had to wash dishes as part of the deal.”

  Aubrey wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You’re way too good of a chef to stoop to those levels, Jen. You’ll get that big break one of these days and be the head chef at some award winning restaurant. Just like I’ll be in charge of the entire concierge staff at a five-star hotel, while Mel’s going to own her own art gallery and her pottery will sell out faster than she can make it.”

  Jenna, a slim brunette who was a quarter each Hawaiian, Filipina, Japanese, and Irish, scoffed. “And here I thought I was the daydreamer of the house. Those are all great goals, Aubrey, but let’s face facts. I’m a sous chef at a touristy seafood restaurant in Lahaina where even I admit the food sucks most of the time, you spend most of your workday organizing snorkel excursions and Hana tours for hotel guests, and Mel admittedly makes more money working as a cashier at Safeway than she does selling pottery on the side.”

  “It won’t always be that way,” soothed Aubrey. “For any of us. Sometimes it just takes awhile before you catch a break.”

  Melanie waved a slim hand in dismissal. “Define awhile. Because for me three and a half years has officially crossed the line from awhile into fucking forever. And you’re avoiding the real subject as usual, Aubrey. Achieving our career goals has diddly squat to do with you going on a date with hot doctor.”

  Aubrey scowled at her petite, freckle faced roommate. “Who said he was hot?”

  “You did, actually,” replied Jenna distractedly as she concentrated on applying a second coat of bright fuchsia polish to her toenails. “When you were gushing about your lunch with him, you specifically referred to him as hot. Didn’t she, Mel?”

  “Yup. Besides, I’ve never known you to date any guy who wasn’t hot, so I just took it for granted,” Melanie pointed out. “Are you trying to say he isn’t hot after all?”

  “No,” muttered Aubrey sullenly. “He’s pretty smoking hot, that’s for sure. And funny and charming, and he must have a lot of money to be able to afford the Gregson. I didn’t see the bill, of course, but I’m guessing he dropped a hundred bucks just on lunch and didn’t blink an eye. I can’t even imagine what dinner is going to cost at the Seven Palms.”

  “Hang on a minute and I’ll tell you,” offered Melanie as she began tapping on her phone. “But I’m figuring at least three hundred bucks.”

  Jenna nodded in agreement. “At least. I’ve looked at their menu online a couple of times, trying to figure out if I could even afford to eat a salad there, and the answer was a big ole no. It’s one of those places where if you can’t afford it don’t even ask.”

  Melanie’s green eyes widened in mingled shock and dismay as she pulled up the restaurant menu on her phone. “You got that right. Holy crap, the cheapest entrée is like forty bucks, and that’s a vegetarian dish. I hope this guy is for real, Aubrey, and doesn’t try and stick you with the bill or anything.”

  “He’s for real,” assured Aubrey. “I mean, he’s definitely staying at the Gregson since he handed me his key card so I could use the ladies room near the pool. And when the waiter brought our lunch out to us, Jordan slipped the guy a fifty dollar bill as a tip. I’m really not worried about him ducking out on the bill, Mel.”

  Jenna emitted a low whistle. “Jesus, I’ll say not! I wish we got big tippers like him where I work. Not, of course, that the kitchen staff gets a share of the tips. But I agree with you, Aubrey. Hot doc sounds like a keeper.”

  “He’s not a keeper,” corrected Aubrey. “He’s only here on a two week vacation, after all, and then goes back home to San Francisco. Besides, I don’t even know if I’ll see him again after tonight. Assuming, that is, that I actually end up having dinner with him. I still think I should text him and cancel.”

  “You are not cancelling this date,” announced Jenna firmly. “How long has it been since you’ve even been on a date, Aubrey? Much less on a date with a hot, rich doctor? As I recall, the last couple of dates you went on were with complete losers, including one who did stick you with the bill. So I’ll tell you what, Blondie - if you really don’t want to go, I’ll go in your place. I’m not dumb enough to say no to dinner at the Seven Palms, especially with a good looking man.”

  “And why do you think you won’t see him again after tonight?” inquired Melanie. “He seems pretty fixated on you, after all, given how persistent you said he was.”

  Aubrey gave a little shrug, trying her best to sound indifferent but fearing that her very perceptive roommates would know better. “First of all, how do I even know if I’m going to like this guy? I mean, he’s funny and sweet and charming, but I only spent an hour or so with him at lunch. Maybe when I spend more time with him I’ll realize he’s a creep or an egotistical jerk or that under the wrong lighting he’s not half as good looking as I remembered. And second - well, I’m pretty sure that Jordan’s a big time player. He flirts like crazy, and referred to himself as the master of pick-up lines, plus I saw the way all these women on the beach were giving him the onceover. So I’m just assuming that he’s only interested in a one-night stand. Which, as you both know, is so not my thing. And that’s why I should really send him a text and - ”

  Jenna clamped a hand over Aubrey’s mouth. “Don’t say it, okay? In fact, I don’t want to hear the word cancel from your lips for at least a week. Maybe you should consider eliminating it from your vocabulary altogether. You’re going on that date tonight, dammit, and even if it is just a one-night stand, so what? Live it up for once, Aubrey, okay? Have a fabulous dinner, and then hopefully even more fabulous sex. What’s the harm? I mean, it’s not like you do that sort of thing all the time.”

  “How about never?’
chimed in Melanie. “In the eighteen months or so I’ve known you, Aubrey, I don’t ever recall hearing about any one-night stands. Jen’s right. And so what if hot doc is something of a manwhore? That just means he’ll show you a really good time tonight. When was the last time that happened?”

  Aubrey sighed in resignation, knowing that even though both of her roommates were considerably shorter than she was - Jenna by five inches and Melanie by a whopping eight inches - when they decided to gang up on her she was more or less helpless to fight back. And, as much as she hated to admit it, both of them were making good points.

  “Months,” admitted Aubrey reluctantly. “And even then the sex wasn’t the “light up my world and make my toes curl up” kind of stuff. It was more like - nice, I guess the word would be. But why are you two just assuming that I’m going to wind up having sex with Jordan? Maybe he’s a gentleman and doesn’t believe in sex on the first date.”

  Melanie laughed so hard that tears started trickling down her cheeks, while Jenna just regarded Aubrey with a look of utter disbelief.

  “And here I thought you’d convinced me that all those dumb blonde jokes were just that - jokes,” lamented Jenna. “Sweetie, let’s review the facts here, hmm? How old did you say this guy was?”

  Aubrey fidgeted on her plastic lawn chair. The three roommates were sitting in the tiny backyard space of the funky, somewhat ramshackle rental house they shared and drinking iced tea, though Jenna had gazed covetously at a six-pack of craft beer for long minutes before grudgingly admitting it was just a little too early for happy hour.

  “I’m not quite sure,” hedged Aubrey. “I mean, we didn’t exactly swap birthdates yet. But if I had to take a guess I’d say late thirties, maybe even very early forties.”

  “So definitely an older man then,” confirmed Jenna. “At least he’s way older than you, probably between ten to fifteen years, would you say?” At Aubrey’s reluctant nod, Jenna gave her a withering stare. “Sweetie, he’s going to expect sex. Just make that assumption right now, okay? Guys that are as good looking as you say he is, who have tons of money, and who turn on the charm aren’t looking to just hold hands and settle for a kiss good night. Even on the first date. So make sure everything down below is all shaved and tidy, wear your sexiest undies, and send us a text if you’re not going to be home tonight. Got all that? Now, I don’t care how early it is. I don’t have to work tonight - thank God - so I’m breaking open those brews that keep calling my name. Mel? You want one?”

  Melanie shook her head, causing her red-gold curls to bounce endearingly. “No, thanks. I’ve got to work the early shift tomorrow, and if I have any alcohol tonight it won’t be pretty in the morning. You guys know what a lightweight I am when it comes to booze.”

  “Suit yourself. And don’t even think of having a beer right now, Aubrey,” warned Jenna. “The last thing you want to do is have beer breath when the hot doc picks you up. What time is he coming to get you?”

  “Seven o’clock. I offered to take a taxi or catch an Uber to the hotel but he wouldn’t hear of it. And knowing how pushy he is, I’m guessing he’ll insist on coming to the door instead of waiting for me outside.”

  Jenna grinned. “Aw, how sweet! I guess there are definite advantages to dating an older guy. When was the last time any of us had a date who insisted on picking us up here? I’m pretty sure I ended up picking up my last couple of dates.”

  “When was the last time some of us even had a date?” groused Melanie. “Hell, maybe I will have a beer after all. I’ve got plenty of time to sleep it off, considering that all I have to look forward to tonight is a new episode of Lucifer. I’ll grab one for both of us, Jen.”

  While Melanie trotted off to grab the beers, Jenna waggled a finger warningly at Aubrey.

  “Seven o’clock is less than three hours from now, sweetie,” she pointed out. “So if you want to look smashing for the hot doc you need to get started pronto.”

  “Seriously, Jen?” asked Aubrey in disbelief. “Three hours? I mean, I know I can’t just throw on a ten dollar dress and some flip flops then slap on a coat of lip gloss for dinner at the Gregson. But I figured a half hour would be plenty of time.”

  Jenna glared at her roommate. “A half hour is barely enough time for me to do your nails, sweetie. Then there’s your hair and makeup, plus we still need to see if you have anything at all in your closet that cost more than twenty bucks. And forget about borrowing any of my things. Even a knee length dress or skirt of mine would be a micro mini on you. So, get going, would you? Take a shower, make sure you shave everywhere, and meanwhile I’ll start going through your stuff.”

  Aubrey wrinkled her nose. “You know I don’t like wearing a lot of makeup, Jen. So don’t think you’re going to do me up like a runway model or something.”

  Jenna patted Aubrey on the shoulder. “Nowhere near that extreme. But definitely more than a swipe of bubble gum flavored lip gloss and a flick of mascara. Sweetie, thirteen year olds wear more makeup than you do most days. Leave it to your rooomie, hmm? All I’m planning to do is enhance all of that natural beauty. Now go clean up while I ransack your closet. And considering how sparse the contents are, I should be done before the water gets warm.”

  Aubrey was chuckling to herself as she scurried off obediently to wash her hair and shave - though she didn’t plan to be quite as thorough as Jenna had demanded. The hasty rinse-off she’d done at the Gregson right before lunch hadn’t really done the job of getting the salt water off her skin, and definitely not out of her long blonde hair. And while traces of the tomboy she’d been for most of her youth still remained - such as her preferences for wearing casual clothing and little to no makeup - Aubrey did love a long, hot shower. Or, even better, a leisurely soak in the tub. But since the slightly decaying beach shack didn’t have a bathtub, she had to make do with the narrow shower stall.

  As she carefully ran a razor around her bikini line, she couldn’t suppress a little shiver of anticipation at seeing Jordan again in a few hours. Despite her initial wariness of him when he’d first approached her so boldly on the beach - declaring with that admittedly charming grin that they had met before in his dreams - he had ended up, well, charming her by the time their nearly two hour lunch had ended.

  Jordan had spent most of the time asking her questions about herself - learning that she was originally from San Diego, had a business degree from the University of California in that same city, and had been employed since her graduation three years ago by an adventure tour operator. He’d also coaxed her to divulge that she hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since college, had discovered what her favorite foods were, and revealed that yes, she was a natural blonde, and that no, he would have to take her word for it.

  “At least until I can find out for myself,” he’d murmured in a deep, sexy voice. “Since you made that comment about pelvic exams - well, it’s given me all sorts of ideas. Naughty ideas, in case you were wondering.”

  Aubrey’s pulse had picked up considerably at his seductive teasing, especially when his long fingers had begun to trace a little pattern up and down her bare arm. “I - I’m not surprised,” she’d replied faintly. “I get the impression that you can be a very, very naughty man when you want to, Doctor Reeves.”

  Jordan had grinned then, a devilish gleam in his unusual gray eyes. “Well, that’s the majority of the time, darlin’,” he’d drawled. “Especially with a woman as beautiful as you are. Tell me, Aubrey. Do you like being a naughty girl?”

  She’d gasped audibly then, both from his intentionally provocative question and the unexpected touch of his hand on her thigh. “Sometimes,” she’d whispered. “When - when the occasion calls for it.”

  “Well, then.” The expression on his handsome face had been one of pure carnality. “This should be a very, very interesting evening, shouldn’t it? We’ll see just how naughty a girl you can be.”

  Her eyes had drifted shut as his hand had continued it’s ca
ressing strokes. “I - I haven’t actually agreed to see you again tonight,” she’d murmured weakly.

  Jordan had removed his hand from her thigh, only to cup her flushed cheek. “But you want to, don’t you, Aubrey? You want to say yes. To dinner. And to being naughty. So say yes, darlin’.”

  “Yes.”

  The word had slipped out without conscious thought, but it was too late to take it back, to tell him she’d changed her mind. Because he was already asking for her address and phone number, giving her his number in return, and arranging to pick her up at seven, brushing off her feeble protests that she could find her own way back here.

  “I insist,” he’d told her firmly. “Besides, as reluctant as you’ve been to agree, I’m not about to let you back out now. And how are you getting to your house this afternoon? Do you have a car parked in the beach lot down the road?”

  She’d shaken her head. “No car. Too expensive to own one here in the islands. I have a little Vespa that I scoot around in. So you see, I can very easily meet you here tonight so you don’t have to bother - ”

  Jordan had placed his index finger over her mouth, shaking his head. “It’s no bother, Aubrey. I’ll be there at seven, okay? No more arguments on the matter.”

  “Okay.” She’d sighed in resignation. “But don’t expect too much. The house I live in - well, it’s really more of a beach shack, to be honest. One of my roommates calls it funky, but honestly, it’s just kind of a dump.”

  He’d shrugged, clearly unconcerned with this bit of news. “It doesn’t matter in the least. I’m not a snob, Aubrey. Far from it. Oh, I’m not poor or anything like that, as you’ve probably surmised. But I could care less about where you live or what sort of vehicle you drive or if your flip flops cost two dollars or two hundred dollars.” He’d picked up her hand then, giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m only interested in you, Aubrey. In getting to know you a little better and enjoying your company. So - it’s a date, then?”

 

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