by HELEN HARDT
Riley was hardly my friend, but I had to say something.
“Oh, sure. I know Riley. She’s gorgeous. Very talented. No one can navigate the runway quite like she can. She’s as close as we have to an old-school supermodel these days. The way she moves is like a reincarnation of Cindy Crawford or Naomi Campbell, except with her own twist. She’ll be one of the classics. Amazing.”
I nodded. Why did I bring up a gorgeous woman again?
“How is she doing?”
“Fine.” As far as I could tell. Though I did think she was hiding something that she’d wanted to tell me but chickened out.
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad she’s doing better.”
Better? So Riley did have some issues, one of which was no doubt anorexia or bulimia. I couldn’t ask Fox about any of this, though. I’d said Riley was a friend, and if she were truly a friend, I’d know about whatever he was talking about.
Plus, this was so none of my business.
Our drinks arrived, which gave me something to do besides sit there saying nothing. I took a sip and gulped back a choke. The flavor was smoky and intense.
And damned good.
Why had I never tried bourbon before? To hell with cosmos and all those other frou-frou drinks I usually preferred. From here on, I was a bourbon girl.
“What brand do you suppose they gave us?” Fox asked me.
I had no idea. This was my first foray into bourbon. “I don’t know,” I said, “but it’s really good.”
“That it is. Nice and smooth. I’ll bet it’s a boutique bourbon from upstate. Some of those are amazing.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite?”
I took a sip. “This one, as of right now.” Good save.
“Here, here.” He clinked his glass to mine and took a sip.
I took another. Wowza. This was good stuff.
Fox signaled the server. “We’re going to need another round here. I can tell already.” Then he smiled at me. “This night is just getting started.”
23
Rock
“What can I get for you?”
“Bourbon on the rocks,” I said.
“Any particular bourbon?”
“The first one the bartender can get his hands on works for me.”
The waitress laughed. “You’re the second person tonight who’s said that to me. You realize that’s an excuse for Johnny to give you the fifteen-year Pappy’s. It’s sixty-five dollars a shot.”
“Whatever.” Why should I worry about money now that I was CEO of Wolfe Enterprises? I was more interested in something else. “Who else said that to you?”
She nodded toward the left. “A lady over at that table.”
I stared in that direction to a table in the corner. Three men and two women, one of whose back was to me but I’d recognize her anywhere. She was wearing the same jacket she’d had on during dinner, and the man sitting next to her had his hand on her forearm.
Jealousy lit up within me.
The server took Roy and Reid’s orders while I continued to grit my teeth over that slug touching Lacey’s arm.
Before the waitress left, I signaled her. “Just out of curiosity, did the bartender give the woman at the other table a sixty-five-dollar glass of bourbon?”
She laughed. “He sure did. Two, actually, as they ordered another. Four altogether, because the guy next to her ordered the same thing. They’re going to be surprised when their bill comes.”
I chuckled.
Reid looked over at the other table. “That’s Lacey Ward. I didn’t take her for a bourbon drinker, and certainly not an expensive bourbon drinker.” He smiled. “You know what? Change my order to that bourbon, too. It’s not usually my drink, but I’d like to try it.”
Even Roy spoke up. “Mine too. You’re going to have a good night tip-wise.”
“Sure thing.” She smiled and headed toward the bar.
I couldn’t help chuckling softly to myself. Pretty boy with his hand on Lacey would no doubt get stuck with the bill. Served him right for touching her.
Reid was saying something, but all I could do was seethe at that jerk touching Lacey.
My Lacey.
Hell, no. Not my Lacey. She’d made that clear earlier, and I didn’t want her anyway. At least not in any serious way.
The waitress—her name tag said Lisa—returned with our drinks.
“That’s some quick service,” Reid said jovially.
“When I get an order worth a couple hundred dollars, I step on it.” She set our drinks down on the table. “Should I order you another round?”
“Let’s see if we like it first,” Reid said.
“You can get me another,” I said. “Bourbon may not be my brothers’ first choice, but it’s mine.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” She winked.
Lisa was a pretty woman, curvy with red hair and freckles. Luscious lips that, any other time, I’d be dreaming about kissing.
Not tonight.
My thoughts were focused on the woman in the corner whose back was to me. She didn’t even know my brothers and I had come into the bar. Hadn’t turned around once.
And that damned guy’s hand was still on her arm.
“What do you think, Rock?” Reid asked.
“What do I think about what?”
“What we’re talking about.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Christ. Haven’t you been listening at all?”
“I guess not.” No, I’d been watching the back of Lacey’s head. Her arm being fondled by a pretty boy.
“He’s been staring at Dad’s lawyer,” Roy said.
“You have the hots for Lacey,” Reid said. “Can’t say I blame you.”
A sudden bolt jerked through me. Reid was known as a womanizer, was in all the celebrity magazines with different women on his arm. Had he and Lacey… Man, I couldn’t even finish the sentence in my head.
All of a sudden I wanted to throttle my little brother into oblivion.
“Have you and she…”
He shook his head.
Damned lucky for him.
“Never had the pleasure,” he said. “But I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”
His comment made me seethe again, but I fought against it. “Do you happen to know any of those people she’s with?”
“Only one. The guy on her right is Fox Monroe. He’s a model. Riley introduced us once.”
So pretty boy was a model. Made sense. And no pretty boy model was a match for me. I slid my chair backward. “I’m going over there.”
“But we came here to talk about—”
I stopped listening to Reid. Rage boiled under my skin as I stalked toward the table in the corner. What would I say? I had no idea.
Right before I arrived, though, Lisa swooped in and laid their check on the table.
Pretty boy grabbed it. “Let me.” Then his eyes widened as he looked at what must have been an exorbitant number he hadn’t expected.
Lacey turned toward him and said something I couldn’t make out. Her back was still toward me.
Pretty boy shook his head and grabbed his wallet out of his pants.
And I laughed uproariously.
A little louder than I’d meant to.
Lacey turned around, her beautiful eyes wide. “Rock! What are you doing here?”
24
Lacey
Rock Wolfe looked delicious. He always looked delicious, and I was already horny.
And a little bit drunk.
Three bourbons were a lot for me, apparently.
“Having a drink with my brothers. I thought I’d come over and say hi.” He turned to Fox. “Mr. Monroe, I’d know you anywhere. Your face is all over the place. I’m Rock Wolfe. You probably know my sister, Riley.”
Rock knew a male model? He had to be joking, and his tone was freakishly fanboy. So not Rock Wolfe. But he seemed to recognize Fox. Was his face e
verywhere? I hadn’t recognized him. I doubted Rock followed men’s fashion. But what the hell did I know?
“Yes, nice to meet you,” Fox said, standing and taking Rock’s outstretched hand. “I do know Riley. She’s a wonderful model.”
“Yes, she is. You look a little surprised. Is everything okay?”
Huh? Fox had looked a little unprepared for the check he’d offered to cover.
“Lisa told us you were drinking the fifteen-year Pappy’s. So are we. It’s smooth stuff.”
Fox cleared his throat. “Yes, it is. Worth every penny.” He slid a credit card on top of the check and pushed it toward the edge of the table.
Rock was still chuckling. How expensive was that bourbon, anyway? It would be rude to look at the check. I unhooked my purse from the back of my chair and fumbled for my wallet. I was the one who’d mimicked Rock’s words and made the order. I’d had no idea the bartender would give us something ridiculously expensive. “I’ll be happy to cover half.”
Fox pushed my hand away. “I wouldn’t think of it. I never let a lady pay.”
“He’s a high-paid model, Lacey,” Rock said. “He can afford it.”
Okay, that was enough. Rock was being an ass, as usual. I stood, but clumsily lost my balance. Rock’s strong arms steadied me.
Damn that spark that hurtled through me at his touch.
“Easy, baby,” he said. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Just three bourbons.” Or did we have four?
“And a couple glasses of wine at dinner, if I remember correctly.”
Fox stood then. “You had dinner with him?”
I opened my mouth, but only a squeak came out.
“Easy, pretty boy,” Rock said. “It was just happenstance. But I’ll tell you one thing that’s for certain. Only one person is taking this lady home, and it isn’t you.”
Again I tried to speak but couldn’t. I hadn’t been planning to go anywhere with Fox. He was way too young for me and not my type at all. I didn’t go for the fine-featured handsome types. No. I was much more interested in rugged handsome, strong handsome—kind of like the man who was ushering me out of the bar.
I didn’t plan on going anywhere with him, either.
“Rock, I’m fine. Let me go. I’ll get a cab.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone. You’re completely obliterated.”
“I don’t get obliterated on three drinks.” Or was it four? Even as I said the words, I was having trouble walking, and my vision was a little blurry. Good thing I hadn’t driven.
Oh, wait. I didn’t own a car.
“Are you used to bourbon?”
“Well…not really.”
“Then why were you drinking it?”
“I don’t know.” But I did. I drank it because he drank it. Because Rock Wolfe had taken over my mind and apparently my body. I’d said the exact thing he’d said to the server at dinner.
Now I was paying for it.
And poor Fox was paying a— “How much is that bourbon, anyway?” I asked Rock, as he flagged down a cab.
“Sixty-five dollars a shot.”
“Sixty-five dollars!” Nausea edged up my throat. I was going to be sick. Really sick. Fox and I had each had three, possibly four. And Paul and the others had joined us on the last round after we both sang its praises.
“Oh my God…”
“He’ll get over it, Lace.”
“But that’s…” My mind wasn’t calculating rapidly. Too much booze. “Over six hundred dollars for what we drank. Plus the other drinks.” I rubbed my temples. Already a headache was forming. From the bourbon or leaving Fox with such a bill, I wasn’t sure.
All because I’d mimicked Rock’s words.
“Easy.” Rock helped me into a cab and then slid in beside me. “Are you going to throw up?”
I rubbed my forehead. “No. I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Not in my cab,” the driver said.
“We’ll pay for any damage if she does,” Rock said. “And I promise you a nice tip.”
My stomach churned. I’d never be able to look Paul or Fox in the eye again. I’d have to pay Fox back somehow. Oh my God.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
“Where do you live?” Rock asked me.
But my mind wasn’t working. I opened my mouth but all that came out was babbling.
Rock chuckled, grabbed my purse from me, pulled out my wallet, and looked at my driver’s license. He gave the cabbie the address, and the car lurched forward.
Nearly taking the contents of my stomach with it.
“Easy,” Rock said again, wrapping his strong arm around my shoulders. “Lean on me. We’ll be there soon.”
I swallowed back my nausea and nuzzled into his strong shoulder. He smelled so good. Still like pine and the outdoors, even though he’d been in an office all day. Or so I surmised. He’d have to update his wardrobe.
The cab driver jerked to a stop in front of my building, and I heaved against Rock but managed to keep everything down.
“Damn it!” Rock said. “Do you have to drive like a maniac?”
“You’re not from New York, are you, man?” the cabbie said.
“No, I’m not. Not in this lifetime, anyway. But unfortunately I guess I’d better get used to it. Come on, Lacey.” Rock helped me out of the cab, and then gave the driver a few bills. “Let’s get you home.”
Somehow, I managed to walk past the doorman and get into the building. Then Rock and I took the elevator to my small apartment on the top level. By the time we made it to my door, I was ready to give up and fall asleep in the hallway.
I fumbled with the keys again, until he took them from me and had the door unlocked in a matter of seconds. He guided me inside my apartment.
I turned to him.
He was so damned gorgeous!
But he had to leave now. I was about ready to blow big chunks, and I really didn’t want Rock Wolfe to witness it. “Thanks for getting me home.”
“Not a problem. Show me your bedroom—”
“Oh, no. Not going there tonight.”
“So I can help you get to bed. You could actually let me finish a sentence, Lacey.
“Nope. I can take care of myself—” I ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I barely got the cover of the toilet up before I vomited.
Let me die now.
Two more heaves and my stomach was empty of the two hundred dollars plus worth of bourbon I’d put away. Not to mention the dinner I’d shared—and paid for—with Rock.
At least I felt a little bit better. But not much.
I fumbled for a bottle of ibuprofen in my medicine cabinet and swallowed four, followed by a glass of lukewarm water. Blech. But at least I probably wouldn’t wake up with a headache. Then I brushed my teeth furiously and gargled some mouthwash, which almost made me hurl again.
Rock pounded on the door, to the tune of a vibrating jackhammer. “You okay in there?”
I wasn’t the quietist puker in the world. If I could have disappeared into thin air, I would have. How could I look him in the eye? Didn’t matter, I assured myself. Rock and I were over. No way would I be going to bed with that douchebag again.
Though he had gotten me safely home.
Why did he keep doing things that endeared him to me?
But no. I was hardened. I splashed some cold water on my face and wiped the mascara raccoon eyes off with a cotton pad. Then I drew in a deep breath and opened my bathroom door.
There he stood, looking as magnificent as he had at dinner earlier.
“You okay?” he said again. “Can I get you anything?”
I let out a slow breath. “Just your absence. I’m going to bed.”
“Hey, Lacey. Don’t be that way.”
“Look.” I pushed him out of my way. “I have no intention of sleeping with you again. But even if I did, I am in no shape to get busy tonight. I’m exhausted—”
“And sick,” he added.
“I was sick.” Why deny it? He’d heard everything. “I’m okay now.”
He chuckled. “That’s a lot of money you just flushed down the toilet.”
Ugh, don’t remind me. “So if you’ll be on your way,” I said, “I’ll be getting to bed. I have a busy workday tomorrow.” Just thinking of my nine o’clock meeting had my heart pounding harder and my tummy doing somersaults.
“Let me tuck you in. I want to make sure you’re all right.”
My heart blipped a bit, but I was still not in the mood. I just needed my bed. I pushed him toward the door. “Please. Just go. Thank you for everything, but just go.”
25
Rock
I didn’t want to go. The fact surprised me more than a little, given I knew she wasn’t up for any kind of romp. I was feeling something new, something I wasn’t altogether comfortable with. I wanted to take care of her, sleep next to her, and hold her. Get her to the bathroom if she got sick again.
This was so not me, and it was freaking me out.
What was the best thing to do, then?
Leave, like she’d asked me to.
But not before I got her into bed—to sleep.
I reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
“I told you—”
“Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who would take advantage of a woman in your current state? Give me a little credit.”
A giant yawn split her face, and I took her hand and led her through an open door that I assumed was her bedroom. I smiled. The bed was unmade, and laundry was strewn about. It was endearing. Most women I knew were such tidy freaks.
“Do you want to wash your face?” I asked.
“Too tired.” She took off her blazer and hung it over a chair. Then she turned to me, her cheeks red. “I’m going to get undressed now.”
I chuckled. “If I see anything I haven’t seen before, I’ll scream.”
“Not funny. Get out.”
“Seriously? Lace, I’m trying to help you here.”
“I am perfectly capable of undressing and putting on pajamas without your help.”