by Marie Garner
“I’ll let you know.”
“That was delicious.” Lance leaned back in his chair, rubbing his flat abs in satisfaction. Brea was pleased; she loved to cook, and his enjoyment of the meal helped make her night. Amazing food, gorgeous weather with the sun hanging low while they ate outside, wonderful company, and the evening was shaping up to be far better than she had originally imagined.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Damn, girl, if I knew us getting into it would have led to steak I would have pushed your buttons earlier.”
“Ha, ha.” Brea reached for her wine, unsure how to respond. They hadn’t really talked about their issues during dinner, sticking to small talk about mutual friends and mundane topics such as the weather. Knowing she couldn’t put it off much longer, she figured she needed more wine to fortify herself. “So, what are we going to do?” Brea asked.
“How about we start off with clearing the air?”
“What do you mean?” He studied her for a minute, unsure if she was deliberately trying to play dumb.
Lance pushed his sunglasses to the top of his face. “You know what I mean. I know I may have gotten on your nerves a little bit.”
“A little bit?” she choked out. Was he kidding? He had been like a thorn in her side for weeks.
“Okay, maybe, although I am not confessing to anything, I have been more than a little annoying.”
“Thank you,” she answered primly.
“But—” he held up one finger “—the only reason why you think I am annoying is because you want me.”
“Whatever,” she scoffed.
“Stop saying that word to me, you’re not twelve.” She gasped in outrage, but he continued as though he hadn’t heard. “But as I was saying, you want me and you don’t want to want me, so you pretend like you hate me because it makes you feel better.”
She replayed his words over in her head, processing everything he said. “Okay, let’s just say you’re right.” She held up her hand to ward off the smirk he loved to give. “If…and that is a very big if…you are right, then why don’t you just leave me alone.”
“Would a lion give up his prey?”
“What am I, dinner?”
He mulled it over, smiling at the mental image she created. “Not tonight. Soon. When I am between your legs enjoying all you have to offer, you are going to be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” She crossed her right leg over her left, trying to relieve the tension she felt building.
“I never said I was going to sleep with you.”
“You never said you weren’t either. And trust me, when we are together, the last thing we’re going to do is sleep.”
She waved him off. “Promises, promises.” She stared at him, daring him to disagree. He didn’t. Lance just threw his head back and laughed.
“Damn, you’re going to be fun.”
“I’m always fun. And we aren’t talking about what we’re going to do on set. We can’t keep going on the way we’ve been or Jonah’s going to have a shit fit.”
“I have an idea. I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and you just answer yes or no.”
Brea would bet her new pair of Louboutins he was up to no good. “Why?”
“All I’m asking you to do is answer questions. It’s called yes or no, and it’s something my mother used to do when I’d caused trouble and didn’t want to confess. You scared?” Damn him for knowing her weakness. She was never one to back down from a challenge.
“Well, since I’m not a little boy and have nothing to be in trouble for, no. And while this is probably something I wouldn’t do, ask me anything.”
“Are you attracted to me?” She pressed her lips in a thin line, guessing where he was going with this. He just sat patiently, assessing her with calm green eyes.
“Yes.”
“Do you picture me naked?”
Her mouth gaped opened. “Seriously? Who asks that?”
“Yes or no.”
She sighed dramatically before answering, “Yes.” He rubbed his hands together.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Do you want to have sex with me?”
Brea could feel her face getting hot “I can’t answer that!”
“Yes or no.” He was ruthless with regard to his narrow-minded focus of this game. That was a good piece of information to tuck away for later use. And she had agreed to the damn game, so she felt honor-bound to answer honestly. Besides, there wasn’t any moment when Brea realized she would have sex with him, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt they would be doing the horizontal tango, and she had never been one to shy away from sex.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to have sex tonight?”
“No.” She read the surprise in his eyes before he quickly covered it.
“Do you want to get to know me?”
“Yes.” She answered before thinking because she did. She liked the playful sexual banter they had going on. He was a hot piece of eye candy she longed to unwrap. They clearly had some explosive chemistry, but she was curious to know what lay beneath the tattooed, motorcycle-riding bad boy. From what she saw, other than being too bossy, he was actually a pretty decent guy, so she wanted to know what made him the bad boy everyone talked about.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He held his breath, as though her next answer would be critical.
She smiled gently. “Yes.” He blew out his breath, leaning toward her at the same time she moved in. He kissed her softly, teasing his tongue with hers when she opened her lips. He cupped the sides of her head, holding her there while he continued to kiss her. She gripped the arms of her chair to keep from putting them around him, because he didn’t seem to want to rush it. He pulled back, kissing the side of her lips, one then the other before tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Are you free on Saturday?” Brea tried to think of her upcoming schedule, but the kiss had wiped her brain clear. She probably couldn’t say what she did last night if anyone asked her.
“Um…yes.” She had a couple appointments but made a mental note to rearrange them.
“Do you think we can work together peacefully?”
“Yes.” He nodded encouragingly.
“Good.” He released her and leaned back. “I really do want to get to know you, not just sleep with you.”
“I know. Saturday will work for me.” Brea tried with her hand to cover the yawn, not wanting the evening to end. Funny how she had been dreading this evening before. Brea wasn’t a fortune-teller. She was unaware if anything would come from their mutual attraction other than torched sheets, but she was finally willing to try.
“I’ll pick you up at ten.” That was it; no question about what time she would be available, whether she wanted to meet him somewhere. Nothing, just a demand to be ready.
“That’s it?” she asked when he started to stand. He looked confused, as though he didn’t understand what she was asking. “You aren’t going to ask me what time I will be ready or what I could possibly want to do?”
“Nope. I’ve figured you out. I have to tell you, not ask you.” He tweaked her nose. “Are you taking me home or am I catching a cab?”
Now she was irritated, an emotion she was quickly getting used to feeling when around him. “That depends on whether or not you are going to give me my payment.”
“You never said what it was.” He had a point.
“I’m still thinking about what I want.” Lance put his hand out, prompting her to put her hand in his so he could pull her up.
“How about I just promise to give you the best orgasm of your life?”
“I could be persuaded, but that’s a pretty big order.”
He pulled her toward him so their bodies were perfectly aligned and she could feel his erection. “You have no idea how big my order can be.”
Brea shook her head ruefully. “Okay, we need to go before you decide to make any more cheesy dick jokes.”
He bit her earlobe. “Bet
you’re wet.” She refused to take him up on his sucker bet.
“Come outside.” Lance’s whiskey-smooth voice filled her ear, causing goose bumps down her back before she thought about what he said to her.
“You’re not going to come to my door and get me?” She peeked out her blind, saw him sitting in his car idling. It was ten o’clock on Saturday so she figured he was picking her up for their date.
“I don’t think so, not when you can just meet me out here.”
“Romance is never dead when you’re around.” She grinned and watched him turn his head toward her house. He waved when he saw her peeking through the blind, causing her to jerk back, annoyed she’d been caught.
“I’ll give you romance, just not right now. Come outside. I’m at the curb.” She briefly debated just staying inside. Silvia always said if a man didn’t knock on your door and get you directly, he wasn’t worth it. He sensed her hesitation. “I know what you’re thinking, stubborn ass, so stop thinking it and come on. We are on a schedule and I’m running a bit late, but I promise to cover your sidewalk in rose petals if you’ll get out here without arguing.”
“There you go promising again.” She hung up the phone when she walked out the door, waving her middle finger at him as she got closer.
“Emily Post would be so proud.” He leaned over for a smacking kiss. Brea returned it, loving the feel of his lips on hers.
“How the hell do you know who Emily Post is?”
He shrugged as he drove off. “My mom taught etiquette classes.”
“You’re lying.”
He looked at her as if she was crazy. “Why would I lie about that? That would make no sense.”
She begged to differ. “No, what makes no sense is how Mr. Rudeness himself is trying to tell me his mother taught etiquette classes.”
“Hey, I said she taught ‘em. I never said they stuck.”
She conceded his point. “True. So, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.” She reached over and changed the radio. The heavy metal music he was listening to was making her ears bleed.
“I don’t care. And don’t you know in some countries they will chop off your hand if you mess with someone’s radio?” He turned it back to heavy metal.
“But I really want to know where we’re going. I am the girl who reads the entire plot of a movie before she sees it or reads the last page in a book to make sure it has the ending she wants. I’m dying here. And as far as the radio bit, I was unaware it was worthy of losing appendages, but I would gladly lose my hand if it meant I could keep my hearing intact.” She reached toward the knob, but he stopped her by laying his hand over hers. She moved her hand, ceding to him temporarily.
“Why am I just learning you’re a weirdo?”
“I have all these layers you don’t know about.” She stared out the window, knowing her comment hit a little too close to home for comfort. Wanting to shake off the mood she felt herself falling into, she decided to mess with him a little bit. “Besides, until you know my tastes in music, you should keep it to something generic.”
He scoffed, “What is generic to you? Some pop princess singing about love?” She scowled, unwilling to let him know he was pretty close to the truth.
“I’m just saying heavy metal isn’t on everyone’s playlist. I don’t know about you, but I like country.”
“Honey, I’m from Oklahoma. All I am is a good ol’ country boy.”
“Right,” she muttered sarcastically, but she noted two things. One, he changed it to country, and two, he never did tell her where they were going. She would just have to work on her persuasion skills when it came to him. Ah, well, she thought, leaning back and closing her eyes to enjoy the ride.
Lance took her to Disneyland. Brea didn’t know what she’d been expecting; something adult maybe, but she loved it. The park was geared toward little children, no question about it, but there were also plenty of activities for adults to take part in. He had planned everything, complete with Fast Passes and VIP treatment. He had to have spoken to someone at Disney because there was no way he managed to pull this off in a couple of days without some serious help. She loved that he put time into their date and loved how he was making sure she had a great time.
He was equal parts attentive and sweet, irritating and bossy. He bought her frozen margaritas because she wanted a drink, and she made him wear Mickey Mouse ears. She couldn’t believe he wore them, but she loved this new playful side he was showing her. And while Lance made sure they did everything she wanted to do, he was very adamant about what rides he would not go on and sticking to their schedule.
“Who would think you were such a task manager?” Brea remarked when they went to yet another stop on his busy agenda.
“Believe it.” He smacked her ass as they weaved through the crowds. She pretended to look affronted but couldn’t hold it when he rubbed the part he had just offended. “Besides, you’ll like this one. We’re going to ride the Haunted Mansion.”
“Why would I want to do that?” She tended to shy away from anything remotely scary.
He threw his arm over her shoulder and leaned close. “Dark hallways, reclining seats, why wouldn’t you want to do that?”
Brea grinned up at him. “Sounds like you have a bit of experience with this.”
He kissed the grin away. “Perhaps. But I may have just Googled it.”
“Should I thank the internet?” she joked.
“No, you should thank me. Right after I take you for a ride.”
“You play your cards right and I just may let you.” She leaned up and pursed her lips, signaling another kiss, which he happily obliged. The unmistakable click of the camera broke them out of their reverie. Lance looked up, noticing the paparazzo clicking away. He held up his hand to ward him off.
“Can’t you see I’m having a day with my girl?”
The paparazzo jumped right on his statement. “Are you saying you’re an item?” Wrong thing to say, if the way Lance stalked toward him was any indication. Brea grabbed his arm to stop him as the photographer continued taking pictures.
“It’s none of your damn business if we’re an item.”
The guy lowered his camera. “The public deserves to know.”
Lance growled, and Brea gripped his arm so hard she knew she would leave marks.
“Lance—” she started, but he rounded on her.
“No. The public doesn’t deserve to know shit.” He turned back to the photographer. “And neither do you. Now, I am telling you for the last damn time to leave us the hell alone.”
“Free country.” He was like a yappy dog, circling around them while he continued to take pictures.
“I’ll give you a free country.” Lance jerked away from her and grabbed at the man’s camera. They grappled for a minute, but Lance was fueled on anger, and he quickly wrestled the camera from the guy. Lance opened the camera, taking the memory card out before he threw the camera on the ground and smashed it.
“Are you fucking serious? You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” The photographer gestured for the nearest security guard, who was trying to make his way through the crowd which had begun to form.
“And you’ll be hearing from mine.” Lance reached back and grabbed her hand, pulling her through the crowd. Brea wanted to die from embarrassment; she had no idea what in the world possessed him to act like that. He was like a crazy person, so focused on getting the memory card he didn’t pay attention to anything else around him, even her. She could have been mauled by the crowd and he would have been none the wiser. She had wondered earlier where he got his reputation but with that display, Brea no longer had to question. She concentrated on keeping up with him because he was practically running while on the phone with who she presumed to be his agent.
“I don’t fucking know!” he screamed into the phone. “I flipped the fuck out! Fix it!” Lance stopped abruptly, pinching his nose while he took de
ep breaths to calm down. She could hear the other person speaking in even tones but didn’t know what they were saying.
“I know,” he answered in a more civilized tone than before. “I’m sorry; I just went a little crazy. Okay, I’ll call him. Love you, too,” he murmured before ending the phone call.
Love? Brea thought. Now I really want to know who he’s talking to. She kept quiet. The ball was in his court, and he was the one who acted like a crazy-ass maniac when the guy started taking pictures.
“So, did I imagine what just happened?” he asked sheepishly, fiddling with the buttons on his phone.
“Nope,” she answered. “I’m wishing I did because I don’t know who in the hell that was.”
“I freaked, okay?” Someone was clearly still upset.
“Ya think? What the hell was that about? And who was that on the phone?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.” He continued to fiddle with his phone so she grabbed at it, wanting him to look at her.
“You don’t want to talk about it? Well, I didn’t want to witness it. Or be a part of it. But I was, and I can almost guarantee you we’ll be on the news because one of those tourists had a camera and probably taped the whole damn thing! So, I’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t really give a shit!”
“Keep your damn voice down!” he hissed, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.
“Let’s go.” He grasped her hand and tried to move, but she dug in her heels.
“Don’t touch me.” He grabbed it again, pulling her toward him. “Listen to me. You want to argue with me? That’s fine. But you are in the middle of Disneyland, and we are two of the most recognizable people on television, so if you want to avoid attention and videos, as you yelled earlier, then I suggest you get your ass in the car. We can argue about this later.” She clenched her jaw, ceding his point and tabling the discussion until they got in the car.