by LuAnn McLane
Addison flipped on the light and chuckled. “Oh, well, I don’t think you have to worry. Thanks again for the ride.”
Reid nodded, trying to think of another reason to stay, but came up blank. “Well, then, I guess it’s good night.”
“Good night, Reid. I had fun.”
“Me too.” He squashed the urge to ask her out, but just barely. “Oh . . .” He reached in his pocket and handed her the dinner voucher and baseball tickets. “You did most of the work. Enjoy.”
She hesitated, frowned slightly, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a flicker of disappointment. “Um, thanks . . .”
Reid nodded and then turned and walked away. A moment later he heard the door click shut. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out, reminding himself of the many reasons not to turn back around.
10
Rumor Has It
ADDISON TOLD HERSELF NOT TO BE DISAPPOINTED THAT Reid gave her the tickets and voucher instead of suggesting that they go together. “It’s for the best. You’re just getting over another broken engagement,” she sternly reminded herself. “Forget about Reid Greenfield.”
Impossible.
“No, it’s not! Watch me.”
Addison decided that she’d explore the condo. Watch some television. Unpack her things. Call her mother again.
Cry.
What? Why did sudden, unexpected emotion well up in her throat? Maybe because she’d shared a slow dance and a steamy kiss with a guy and he wasn’t remotely interested in going a step farther. What was it about her, anyway? Oh yeah, she was . . . boring. Maybe his wow comment about the kiss meant “Wow, that was lame.”
Addison dropped her purse onto the nearby table and sighed. The lyrics of the song came floating back to her. “From this moment . . . life has begun.” She started humming the song. Would anyone ever live for her happiness? Love her like that? Addison inhaled a deep breath and blew it out. What does that even feel like? Will I go through life and never really know?
Addison remembered Mia’s explanation about the real deal and closed her eyes, reliving the kiss. Neither Aiden nor Garret had ever made her feel like . . . that. Was Reid just an expert kisser? Addison rubbed her temples and sighed. Maybe she was just emotionally stunted. After all, how could she already be thinking about someone else? But after meeting Reid, Garret seemed like a fuzzy memory.
“Oh, boy . . .”
After a night of having fun, tension slowly started to creep up her neck. The martini buzz had faded, leaving behind a slight headache. . . . Oh, right; she hadn’t eaten, and Reid had forgotten to give her one of the sandwiches. With a groan, Addison headed for the galley kitchen right off the main room, separated by a breakfast bar with three stools in front. She vaguely registered that the condo was nice enough with an open floor plan. But her good mood was busted.
Addison did manage a smile when she spotted a hot pink sticky note stuck to the refrigerator door: I put some random things in the fridge, but come up and have breakfast before Cam has to get on the road. Love ya, Mia.
With hope in her heart for something substantial to eat, she opened the fridge and spotted bottled water, a bottle of Chardonnay, three different kinds of beer, a couple of apples, Diet Coke, sliced veggies and a little jar of ranch dip. Bummer. On the counter sat a box of Wheat Thins and a bag of honey mustard pretzels. Nice, but not what she wanted. She wanted the damn sandwich.
Well, what she really wanted was another kiss from Reid. Addison groaned. “That’s not true. I’ll just order a pizza, I guess,” she grumbled, but then thought that a salad would be healthier. But then she fisted her hands on her hips. So what? She thought about all of the times when she ate salad instead of what she really craved. She was a pleaser and pleased everyone but herself. The closest she’d come to defiance was refusing to do the reality show with Garret, and look where that got her. Dumped.
Addison lifted her chin. Well, that was about to change. The next thing that came down the pike that she wanted . . . she was going to grab it with both fists and . . . well, she wasn’t quite sure, but it was a start. A new beginning. She smiled. From this moment she was going to live life to the fullest. “Perfect name for the boutique.”
Addison grabbed a bottle of water and decided to head to her bedroom and change into some sweats. After taking a gulp of cold water, she walked down the hallway, pausing to check out the half bath before walking into the bedroom. Cream-colored walls, a queen-sized bed and a flat-screen television. Again, nice enough, and she smiled when she spotted her suitcases perched in the corner like little soldiers. She toed off her shoes and was about to open the big, bulging suitcases when she thought she heard the doorbell ringing. She took another swig of water and headed that way, thinking it must be Mia bringing Cam down to meet her after all. “Here’s hoping she also brought dinner. . . .”
Addison swung the door open and there stood Reid, holding up the bag of sandwiches. Well, she’d been right about the dinner part. She blinked at him in surprise and squeezed the plastic bottle so hard she put a dent in it.
“I was ten minutes down the road when I remembered your sandwich. I thought you might want it.”
“Th-thank you.”
The next thing that came down the pike that she wanted she was going grab it with both fists. . . .
Addison reached out and took the bag from him. He turned to go. No . . . “Reid?” When he turned around she held up the bag. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
“Oh yeah, if you want me to.”
“I just asked.”
Reid grinned. “Okay, then. I’ll take that as a yes.”
After he walked in Addison put the bag and her dented water bottle on the table and turned back to face him. She looked at him for a moment, gathering her courage.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and took a step closer to him. Since she’d taken off her shoes he stood several inches taller than her, making her plan a little bit harder to pull off. She swallowed; took a deep breath. Her pulse pounded.
She couldn’t do it.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Do you have a beer?”
“Three bottles of random brews. I don’t remember, except one is Blue Moon.”
“I’ll take either of the other two.”
Addison nodded but stood rooted to the spot, trying to gather her nerve, but after a moment she turned toward the kitchen. She took one more step but then did a 180, and, ignoring her knocking knees, which made her walk a bit funny, she quickly closed the gap between them. Coming up on tiptoes, she grabbed the front of his shirt, fisted her hands in the material, and tugged, well, a little too hard.
A button or two went flying and, caught off guard, wide-eyed Reid tumbled forward. With a surprised grunt Reid smacked into Addison with enough force to send her off balance in a backward little tiptoed trot. Because her knees were basically Jell-O she stumbled, trying, without any luck, to stop, and instead gained momentum while taking Reid right along with her. They did an interesting kind of backward tango. Reid, apparently trying to help the situation, or perhaps trying to fling her off, swerved sideways, swinging them away from the glass-topped coffee table. Addison hit the arm of the sofa and fell backward, tugging Reid with her. She landed on the cushions with a little bounce, her hands still fisted in his shirt.
She looked into his surprised face, mere inches from hers. His mouth was within reaching distance if she just raised her head. “S-sorry.”
“What were you trying to do?”
“Um . . .” Okay, she was invested, so she decided to see this thing through. “This . . .” She raised her head, pressed her mouth to his, and kissed him. He braced his hands against the wide leather cushions of the sectional sofa and quickly got with the program, kissing her back with sweet, sizzling passion. Addison loved the sensation of having the entire length of his hard body pressed to hers, and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripple of muscle in his back. She moved one han
d up into his hair, threading her fingers through the softness at the nape of his neck. Taking the lead, she retreated, licked, nibbled until he made a noise in his throat and pushed her back into the cushions, kissing her with a deep hunger that had her wanting more and more.
Finally, Reid rolled her to the side, pinning her between the sofa and his body. He came up on one elbow, resting his head in his hand. “Did you get what you wanted?” With raised eyebrows, he traced his fingertip over her moist bottom lip.
“Yeah . . .”
“Next time?”
All she could do was nod.
“All you have to do is ask.”
Addison swallowed when he traced the fingertip from her bottom lip over her chin and oh so slowly down her neck, and stopped just when he reached the swell of her breasts. “Kiss me.” Her throaty response wasn’t a question but a demand.
Reid readily complied, lowering his head and capturing her mouth and kissing her slowly, thoroughly. Addison splayed one hand on his nearly exposed chest, feeling his warm skin, silky chest hair, and his deliciously defined ab muscles. She explored each intriguing contour until she came to his belt buckle blocking where she wanted to go. She teased back and forth, dipping below the leather, smiling when she felt his muscles clench in response.
Addison had never really taken the initiative during sex, but she felt a sense of feminine power, taking the lead.
He moaned and shifted and the big bulge beneath the worn denim told Addison that this was quickly going way beyond a stolen kiss. She knew it was time to stop, but when Reid slid his hand beneath her sweater, touching her bare skin, arousal trumped reason. His thumb rubbed back and forth just beneath her bra, causing a hot tingle that turned into a sweet, deep, aching need that only he could soothe.
God, she wanted his mouth on her breasts, his hands between her thighs. She arched her back, offering him more. She gasped when his hot mouth found her neck, kissing, nuzzling, while his callused thumb moved back and forth, upward over the silk and lace, teasing, promising. . . .
“Addison?” The whiskey-rough sound of her name on his lips washed over her like a caress, a question, and a plea at the same time.
Addison tried to think, to grasp on to reason. Reid was little more than a stranger, a possible client. She simply didn’t do this sort of thing, but spontaneity was beginning to have its perks.
“Reid . . .” Her husky voice was an invitation, and he accepted with the deft unclasping of her bra. The rest of her sentence dissolved into a moan when he cupped one breast, rubbing his thumb over her eager nipple. Any remaining shreds of resistance were smothered by a bone-melting, mind-blowing kiss.
Strong, sure fingers unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down. He parted the denim and slipped his hand inside the gap, toying with the lace of her thong. Her belly quivered and she arched her hips, urging him to pull her pants downward. Still kissing her, he started to tug.
And then he stopped.
It took a moment for Addison’s sex-addled brain to register that Reid had gone very still. He removed his hand from her pants and the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. Addison frowned and in a panic wondered what she’d done to turn him off like a faucet. Wait. . . . Oh God . . . Okay, no, she’d had a bikini wax.
“R-Reid?”
She heard his audible swallow. “Hey, I’m sorry. I let things get, um, out of control.”
Really? Because she’d been the one who had almost ripped his shirt off and then kissed him. Her heart started to thump. She didn’t like where this was going.
“It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.”
“Advantage of me?”
Reid ran a hand down his face. “Yeah. Look, when my sister broke up with her boyfriend, not the guy she’s marrying, but another guy she was serious with . . . she . . .”
When he paused Addison urged him on. “She?”
“Well, went a little wild for a minute. You know, to get over him.”
“So you think that’s what I was doing? Using you?”
“Maybe. I don’t know, but I don’t want to be that guy.”
“Oh.” Mortification started at her toes and worked its way up to her cheeks. What did she say now? Thanks? Embarrassment didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling, and even though she supposed—no, knew—that he was just being a really good guy, she was humiliated, and it transformed into being super-pissed. Not that she was about to let him know it. Digging deep for a steady voice she said, “Well, then, I’m starving. Let’s eat those sandwiches. Whadayasay?” She kept her tone light and forced a smile.
“Okay, sure,” he answered a bit uncertainly, but she felt the sudden tenseness in his shoulders relax just a little bit. “Look, if you’d rather that I’d leave . . .”
“No,” Addison protested, trying to ignore her state of undress and the humiliation in her cheeks. “You’re right. I was just, you know, acting out because of, you know, my situation. You just happened to be the guy within reach. Lucky for me you’re a gentleman. Must be that Southern upbringing.” God, she was talking way too much.
“I’ll take that beer now.”
“Sure,” Addison replied, wanting so badly to zip up her pants. “You’re kind of blocking my way,” she said, and swallowed hard when he had to lean and brace his arm across her in order to get the leverage to push up off of the sofa. She got an eyeful of his very fine chest before he put a knee on the cushion and stood up. When he turned his back Addison quickly zipped up and fastened her jeans before sitting up. He turned back around just in time to see her fumbling with her bra, without any success. Great . . .
“Need some help?” he asked uncertainly.
“No!” she answered more sharply than intended, but damned if she couldn’t get the bra to hook to save her life.
“Stand up,” Reid gently requested, and for some reason it brought tears to her eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe acting out was what she was doing. She obeyed and turned around only so he wouldn’t see the emotion threatening to spill down her cheeks. When he slid his hands beneath her sweater she inhaled sharply and she hoped he didn’t notice. His fingers brushed against her skin, and damned if her body didn’t betray her with goose bumps. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and oh, how she wanted to tilt her head to the side and have him kiss her neck, cup her breasts while she leaned back against him.
But she’d suffered enough humiliation for one night, and so when he hooked her bra she tugged her sweater back into place and walked toward the kitchen, pretending that the past fifteen minutes of hot making out never happened. She really wanted him to leave, but pride dictated otherwise.
Addison brought Reid a Kentucky Ale and herself a bottle of water. He reached into the paper bag, pulled out a sandwich and looked at the wrapper. “I think this one is light mayo and mustard, no onion,” he said. If she wasn’t mistaken he felt a bit unnerved as well.
“Thanks,” Addison said with careful politeness. She put the bottle of beer in front of him, trying really hard not to notice the three missing buttons on his shirt and his half-exposed chest. She removed the sandwich from the wrapper and started eating without really tasting it. “Oh, this is good.” Addison nodded with fake appreciation and took another bite. “Mmm. Really good.”
Reid nodded, chewing.
Addison chatted while they ate, and after they were finished she walked him to the door. After she closed the door she tried to remember the conversation but failed. She frowned, thinking it had something to do with baseball and one-hit wonders. She really didn’t know. “Wow . . .” She put a hand to her mouth and shook her head, not really sure if she should laugh or cry.
She walked on wooden legs into the bedroom, retrieved her toiletries from her smallest suitcase, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As she brushed her teeth she looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head, wondering what in the world had gotten into her. Was Reid right? Was she getting over her broken engagement by going
wild?
She spit into the sink, rinsed her mouth, and sighed. She didn’t really know, but one thing was for certain: Rebound or not, in her twenty-eight years of living, no other kiss had ever made her melt the way Reid’s did.
After locating a soft cotton sleep shirt Addison slipped beneath the covers, hoping to fall right to sleep. Of course, when she closed her eyes all she could see was Reid’s face. Pissed, she punched the pillow, tossed and turned for a while before groaning. Sleep wasn’t going to happen. She leaned over and reached for the remote, wondering if her life could possibly get any crazier. With a sigh, she turned on the television, hoping to find a boring movie that would lull her to sleep.
When the screen came to life Addison gasped. There she was, embracing Rick Ruleman. She turned up the volume and listened with growing horror while some “reporter” speculated whether the rumor was true that Addison Monroe, daughter of finance guru Melinda Monroe, was having an affair with her ex-fiancé’s father, Rick Ruleman, promptly ending her engagement. Garret, who said he was headlining a new reality show about his life called House Rules, declined comment while being hounded with questions by paparazzi but pulled a sad face that hinted that the rumor was true. Rick Ruleman was unavailable for comment, as was his publicist, who was rumored to have been fired. Addison Monroe was also missing in action, leading to further speculation that she and Rick were hiding out together.
What?
Addison shook her head and sighed, wondering how Garret could be such a selfish ass. She also wondered if he had started the rumor, but, then again, she wouldn’t put is past Rick Ruleman’s camp to start something that would perpetuate the aging rock star’s bad-boy image. What better than an affair with his son’s fiancée? After all, Addison had never seen Rick without a blond bombshell on his arm, most of them young enough to be his daughter. “Disgusting,” she grumbled through gritted teeth.
Since it was still early enough in LA for her to call, Addison muted the TV, reached for her phone, and called her mother.
“Oh, honey,” her mother answered, letting Addison know that her parents had already heard the rumors. “I’m so sorry.”