Fool for Him (Foolish at Heart Book 1)

by R. C. Martin

  “I’ll be fine. Please, take him. I think he needs it.”

  “I would guess we’d be back around lunch,” he informed me with a glance at his watch.

  “Sounds good.” Smiling encouragingly, I shooed him away with a wave of my fingers as I insisted, “Go do your boss thing. I’ve got the floor.”

  “Thanks, Teddy.”

  As he hurried toward his office, I made my way behind the reception desk to stow my purse and check the main line for messages. While I got myself settled, I heard Geoffrey tell Cameron the piece he’d hung was perfect. I then made a mental note to venture around the corner a little later to check out the new collection. It was always an exciting day when a fresh art shipment was newly hung.

  The gallery was pretty quiet through the morning. Even still, I found enough to occupy myself, which caused the early hours of the workday to slip away from me. Andrew was great about leaving me with a to-do list when I was at the gallery alone for any stretch of time. I loved it when customers came in and gave me an excuse to talk about the art on display, but I also appreciated the trust Andrew put in me as I learned more about the business side of the gallery.

  My concentration was interrupted when I received a text from Geoffrey. As I picked up my phone, I realized it was already after noon. Upon spotting his request for my lunch order, I didn’t bother trying to convince him I would get my own. I knew he wouldn’t listen, anyway. I rattled off my desired choice of salad, well aware I could use the nutrients after the weekend we had, then decided to wander around the gallery for a while.

  I never tired of admiring our ever-changing collection. Even when some canvases hung for months at a time, I still liked to make my rounds in order to pay homage to the heart and talent that went into each and every piece. There was beauty to be found even in the displays I didn’t particularly like. I was convinced.

  I’d forgotten about that morning’s arrival until I was standing in front of it. Even though it was tucked into a corner of the gallery out of view of my desk, I couldn’t help but to take a long moment to appreciate the gorgeous canvas. I got so lost in it, I didn’t hear it when someone’s footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor.

  I was transfixed.

  “Excuse me, can I help you?”

  It was Geoffrey’s voice that alerted me to the customers in the gallery. I jumped, startled from my reverie, and turned away from the art at which I had been gazing. I almost choked on my breath when I was confronted not by a mere customer—but the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my entire life.

  It’s actually quite unfair, I thought as I stared. No one should be allotted that much of an advantage. It’s practically a weapon. It might even be borderline illegal. I mean—it has to be.

  He was at least six-three or six-four. Tall was the adjective with which I was forced to settle. He was tall and broad—but in a natural sort of way, as opposed to a bulky sort of way. The suit he wore was irritatingly perfect; it hugged him in all the right places. In short, it was proof that he was a healthy, active, deliciously fit man. And handsome. Good God, was he handsome.

  His hair was a deep, dark brown, and he wore it parted down the side and slicked back. It was classy. It was sexy. It was—distracting. But it was his eyes that did me in. They were gray. Not blue, not black, but this beautiful shade of dark gray.

  “Logan.”

  He spoke, but I didn’t comprehend what he said. I was too mesmerized by the sound of his rich, baritone voice. When he started walking toward me, I became fully aware that as I was staring at him, he was also staring at me. Suddenly cognizant of the reality in which I found myself, I began to panic. I looked to Geoffrey for guidance, for clarity, for my right mind—which had obviously been misplaced—but he only smirked at me. He then waggled his eyebrows before he shifted his attention to the blonde woman I didn’t notice standing in the spot the beautiful stranger vacated.

  My eyes widened, a sense of abandonment causing my heart to beat wildly within my chest. At the last minute, I spun around to face the wall once more. I fastened my gaze on the canvas in front of me and willed myself to draw in a deep breath. It was when the tall, handsome man came to a stop beside me that it occurred to me how Geoffrey offered him help; and yet, it was me he approached.

  “It’s exquisite,” he said.

  Instantly unbearably shy, I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes. Rather, I did the next best thing. I looked at his shoes.

  “Wha—uh—what is?” I barely managed, my voice pathetic and squeaky.

  “The painting. I assume you agree. You were quite captivated upon our entrance.”

  “Oh,” I sighed, feeling something akin to relief. I then lifted my eyes back up to look at the canvas. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was my ability to share with another my appreciation for art. It eased my nerves knowing he saw the same brilliance I did.

  “It just arrived today,” I told him. “This particular artist is one we work with frequently. I think he’s quite good.”

  “I’m quite good, as well,” he murmured.

  An innocent frown tugged my eyebrows together as I peered down at his shoes again. “Good at what, exactly?”

  “Lots of things.”

  I wasn’t prepared for his touch. When he grazed his finger along the underside of my jaw, my breath caught in my throat. Upon reaching my chin, he tipped my head up, forcing me to look into his eyes.

  “You’re quite exquisite yourself—but I assure you, my shoes are not that interesting.”

  As a blush blossomed across my cheeks, I so desperately wished Geoffrey hadn’t left me all alone. The man before me was too much. Too much beauty. Too much confidence. Just—too much.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, his fingers still poised at my chin.

  “Teddy. And—and yours?”

  “Judah.”

  Two syllables. In the length of time it took him to speak two syllables, I watched as his eyes devoured my face. As they did so, I could not prevent my blush from deepening. I couldn’t remember the last time a man perused me so openly—if ever.

  “How old are you?”

  “Um,” I flinched a little, taken aback by the question. Yet, as unsure as I was about why he asked, I found myself admitting, “I’m almost twenty-three. Why?”

  “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

  The only reason my jaw didn’t fall open in that moment was because he happened to still be holding it in place. Still, all the air in my lungs rushed out of me as I gaped at him in complete and utter shock.

  “Dinner?” I muttered, as if I somehow misheard him.

  “Yes. I consider myself a gentleman. I usually prefer to dine with the women I take to bed; and you, Teddy, would be an exceptionally welcome beauty in my bed.”

  “Whoa,” I exclaimed as I took a step away from him. He dropped his hand from my face, and the loss of his touch stirred within me a gumption I had not been in possession of a second prior. “Did you just—did you just proposition me?” I demanded to know.

  “I’m simply extending an offer, one adult to another,” he said as he casually slipped his hands into his pockets. “An evening spent in my company. No strings.”

  I coughed out a laugh, but it wasn’t amusement I felt. Far from it. I was aghast. For a moment, I wondered if I imagined the whole thing. I glanced around me and saw we were still alone. When my eyes found his once more, I saw it. I saw he was completely serious.

  Like a vail had been lifted from between us, I could see beyond every single one of his attractive features. Or, rather, it was almost as if I could see what his weaponized attractiveness had done to him. Before me was nothing more than an arrogant man who thought his proposal of dinner and sex would actually coerce me into his bed.

  Whatever it was I saw—my perception of him was totally tarnished. Rather than a racing pulse, he left a sick feeling in my stomach.

  “I think,” I started and then I stopped, interrupted by another unstopp
able, horrified laugh. “I think I’m supposed to be flattered, but I’m not. So, if you’ll excuse me, my lunch has arrived.”

  I hurried around him, inadvertently breathing him in. Unsurprisingly, he smelled incredible. So much so, a part of me wished to peek at him from over my shoulder just one last time. I didn’t. Though, as I made my way to the gallery’s back room, I couldn’t help but wonder if by not looking, I had missed my last chance to lay eyes on the most gorgeous asshole I had ever met.

  Chapter Six

  There was a stillness as he and Logan entered Mountain Time Art. It was the kind which only existed in a sacred space. There was no one seated at the reception desk, and no one came out to greet them, but Judah was not bothered by this.

  “Hmm,” Logan hummed, glancing to her left and to her right. “I’m sure someone is here. Maybe they’re upstairs and didn’t hear us come in. Should we look around for a minute?”

  Judah offered her a nod and, without another word, began to follow her through the quiet gallery. Nothing caught his eye at first, but Logan stopped to admire a piece. Wishing to see more, he left her to wander on his own. As he rounded a corner, he was pleased to find something which caught his eye. Or, rather, someone.

  She was standing perfectly still, her hands casually clasped together in front of her. She was tiny. Delicate. Though, not in stature. While Judah towered over most women, he surmised this woman was at least five-six when her feet were bare. Her height only added to her details—details he studied without guilt.

  The floral-patterned skirt she wore sculpted her waist, hips, and her backside quite well. From his vantage point, he thought she looked exceptionally and wonderfully breakable. The thought of how he might ravage her if given the chance excited him, and he had to force himself to take a deep breath.

  Her long, vibrant red hair hung in waves down to the middle of her back, and he found the color a beautiful contrast to her porcelain white skin. His thoughts raced out of his control, and he imagined wrapping his fingers around the tresses and tugging at them until he had her precisely where he wanted her.

  “Jude, I—”

  “Shh,” he insisted, lifting a finger, his eyes still trained on the vision before him.

  From where he stood, he couldn’t see her face. Nonetheless, he assumed a woman with as fine a physic as she possessed, coupled with her apparent fashion sense, could be nothing short of the complete package.

  But I’ve been wrong before, he reminded himself.

  With that in mind, he wasn’t ready for Logan to break the woman’s concentration. He wasn’t ready to risk shattering the illusion of perfection as she stood mere feet away from him.

  “Did you just shush me because you’re checking her out?” Logan hissed.

  Judah held up his finger a second time, not bothering with a spoken answer. Whoever the woman was, she was transfixed. He appreciated the way in which she admired the art in front of her, and he intended to respect at least that as his eyes continued to roam over her body.

  “Excuse me, can I help you?”

  At the sound of another man’s voice, the woman spun around in surprise. Her big, round, bright brown eyes grew wide at the sight of Judah; and her full, sweetheart lips parted open. Her face was covered in the lightest brown freckles, and he found her to be stunning. Absolutely stunning. As he gazed upon her, he decided she looked elegant—like her face alone was meant to exude grace. And when his eyes locked in on her pink lips, his pants grew tight at his groin.

  “Logan,” Judah managed to say, still not looking at his companion. “Tell the man what we’re looking for.”

  He ignored the introductions exchanged behind him as he made his way toward the redhead. The opportunity to seduce her was one he could not deny himself. Except, it wasn’t long before his advances were shot down. Before he could convince her otherwise, she was walking away from him.

  He watched her leave, his mind stubbornly trying to think of his next move. The desire that flooded his veins was indisputable. There was something about her. Something soft and innocent. She was shy. He could tell it wasn’t an act, and there was nothing contrived in their exchange. Teddy had not played with him, and that made him want her all the more.

  Upon first seeing her, he thought her breakable, but she changed his mind. He now saw her as far more delicate than he anticipated, and he wanted to experience the pleasure of shattering her. He wanted to find her wild and unleash it. He wanted to spark a fire in her pretty hazel-brown eyes and stoke the fire into flames as he watched her come. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, her scream bursting free of her shy demeanor.

  He imagined there was a fiery woman locked inside of her, and the challenge of unearthing her was one which excited him.

  He thought back on their short exchange and saw the truth. While she rejected his invitation with her words, her body told a different story. The blush that suffused her cheeks, the cadence of her shallow breaths, and her wide-eyed stare when he touched her—even the memory was enough to send another rush of blood to his crotch.

  Judah cleared his throat and shifted his focus onto the painting Teddy had been admiring. He needed to think of something else, to regain control of his bodily desires. It took him a couple of minutes, but when he reigned in his thoughts, he turned on his heel and went in search of Logan.

  As he approached her, she glanced away from Geoffrey and scowled at him. It happened in a second, and then she was smiling at the art dealer. “Thank you. It was nice meeting you.” She held up his card as she assured him, “We’ll be in touch.” Then, with not a backwards glance, she headed for the exit.

  Judah offered a slight nod to Geoffrey and went after Logan. He caught up with her as they arrived at his Porsche. When he reached for the handle of the passenger side door, she waved him away with a scoff.

  “No need to be a gentleman now, Judah. I’m fine.”

  He frowned at her but then caught the handle anyway. As he opened the door, she stared at him, one of her eyebrows arched high in an expression he could not interpret.

  “What did you say to that woman?” she demanded to know.

  Judah hesitated a moment, caught off guard by her question. Recovering, he then shrugged and replied, “I don’t see why that’s any of your concern.”

  She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. She then folded her arms across her chest and said, “I’m not stupid. There’s only one reason a woman would walk away from you like that. I have walked away from you like that. What did you say?”

  “If I tell you, will you get in the car?” he clipped impatiently.

  He did not like to be reminded of all the ways she, herself, had rejected him. However far in the past such memories resided, it was still a loss he regretted.

  Logan lifted her chin defiantly, and Judah took this as her answer.

  “I told her I’d like to take her to dinner.”

  Her expression shifted once more, her whole face giving voice to her disbelief.

  “Logan—”

  “No bullshit, Judah. What did you say to her?”

  Judah squinted his eyes at her and muttered, “Is this us being friends?”

  She grinned triumphantly. “Yup. Now spill.”

  “I offered her full disclosure. Dinner. My company. No strings.”

  Logan rolled her eyes and freed an exasperated huff before she finally folded herself into the car. Judah closed her in, sure his vehicle would somehow not be large enough for the both of them in that moment. Just as soon as he was seated behind the wheel, his suspicions were proven correct.

  She turned toward him and insisted, “You’re going to apologize to her.”

  “Excuse me?” he muttered in reply, genuinely confused.

  “I’m sorry. You’re going to say those words. Or write them. Send her flowers or something.”

  Judah shook his head minutely as he backed out of his parking space and started for the office. He did not relish the thought of continuing Logan�
��s choice of conversation. However, he could not hold back his next declaration.

  “I have nothing to apologize for. I simply asked the woman to dinner.”

  “I don’t know exactly what you said, but I know you offended her. No woman walks that fast in heels that high from a man who looks like you unless she’s pissed. Considering you spoke with her for all of five minutes before she stormed off, I’d say you do have something to apologize for.”

  She took only a second for breath and then went on to say, “And you know what else? There’s no such thing as no strings. There are always strings—especially if you’re having sex. Sometimes, I swear, our whole world is in denial.

  “Sex is extremely intimate. You can trick your brain into thinking otherwise, but our bodies are more than our brains. And for you to approach her and suggest your company with no strings—I mean, did you even stop to think before you said that? Maybe she’s worth strings. In fact, I know she is; so maybe you and all of your asshole glory can’t comprehend how the idea of casual sex with you could be offensive, but not all women are interested in the idea of offering you their bodies with the promised illusion of no strings.”

  Judah let a moment of silence settle between them. Finally, upon easing to a stop at a red light, he looked at Logan and asked, “Are you done?”

  “Just apologize to her, Jude. That’s all I’m saying.” In what he considered dramatic fashion, she then turned away from him. When the light changed to green and they continued on their way, she murmured, “I’m sorry for calling you an asshole. As your friend, I mean it. As your employee, I recognize it was unprofessional.”

  Judah said nothing in reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t accept her apology; rather, he found himself contemplating all she said. He didn’t agree with her. From his perspective, his straightforward invitations were only fair. He was not a man interested in romantic relationships, and he never wanted to give a woman the wrong idea.