Beautiful Entourage (14 page)

She laughed. “Did I actually get it?”

“Are you a mind reader?” I asked. “Seriously? Because now I’m convinced you are.”

Her hearty laugh came into the phone. “I just know you really well.”

I met Aspen three weeks ago, but she did know me really well. And I knew her. “What are you doing?”

“Painting my nails.”

“What color?”

“I still have to decide that,” she said. “I’ve narrowed it down to either pink, purple, or blue.”

“Hmm…”

“What do you recommend, Rhett?”

I liked the way she said my name. Her voice had maturity to it but also a hint of playfulness. “Pink.”

“Yeah?”

“Pink looks good on your skin tone.”

“When have you seen me wear pink?” she asked.

“I can just tell,” I said vaguely. “Purple would look good too.”

“Make sure you get it right, Rhett. My nails are on the line here.”

“Go with pink,” I said firmly.

“Alright…I’m going for it.” She adjusted the phone as she freed up her hands.

“Are you doing your fingers or toes?”

“Toes.” I heard her blow over the phone.

An image of her blowing into my ear came into my mind. Arousal coursed through me suddenly and violently. When I realized I was hard, I felt guilty. Then it went away. “Going out with Harper?”

“No. I got a date with my TV tonight.”

“Steamy,” I said.

“When nude scenes come on, it gets hot and heavy.”

“Make sure you put the Do Not Disturb sign outside.”

“Oh, I will. Wouldn’t want to be interrupted.” Her playfulness came out in full swing.

“What are you doing for dinner?”

“Probably eating a bowl of cereal,” she said. “I’m too lazy to head to the store.”

“What kind of cereal?” I asked.

“Lucky Charms.”

“Excellent choice,” I said in an awed voice.

“I prefer Captain Crunch but I ran out of that.”

“Even better,” I said.

“What are you doing for dinner?”

“I’ll probably make some chicken, veggies, and potatoes.”

“Yum,” she said. “I can cook but choose not to.”

“Come over.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. The sentence hadn’t even formed in my brain before I blurted it out. Now it was too late to take it back. And I didn’t want to.

“Uh…tonight?” Hesitation was in her voice.

I couldn’t pull out now. It would make things awkward. “Yeah. I’ll turn off Criminal Minds so you won’t be scared.”

She still seemed on the fence. “I don’t have anything to bring…”

“I got everything. Just come over. I want to see your nails anyway.”

Aspen was quiet for a long time. “I’ll be there in half an hour. Is that okay?”

I smiled against my will. “Yeah. I’ll get cooking.”

“Where do you live?”

I was going to break two rules—already. I’d never struggled to keep my confidentiality before. “You got a pen?” I gave it to her without hesitation. If she did become a crazy stalker, I was screwed. It was easy to change a number but more difficult to change an address. “I’ll see you soon.”

***

I had a nice apartment that overlooked the park. It had floor-to-ceiling windows, dark leather furniture, and the hardwood floors were new. When the money started coming in, I bought it at the first chance I had. It was spacious with a nice living room and an extra bedroom I used as an office. I felt at home, and the view was the best part.

She knocked on the door lightly, like she feared I was sleeping.

I never had a client at my place before. This was new territory for me. Aspen made me feel comfortable although I couldn’t explain how. She was just easy to be around. Time couldn’t be measured accurately. It was like I’d known her forever even though I really knew nothing about her. Her movements always caught my attention. I studied the way she ate with a spoon, noting how she slid it in and out of her mouth. While I cared about all my clients, I cared about Aspen in a unique way.

I answered the door and the anxiety I felt about my hasty choice evaporated. She wore jeans and a t-shirt. It was the first time I’d seen her wearing something casual. And she looked really cute. She held up a box of margaritas in a can.

“Okay…I know they’re girly and cheap but it’s all I had.”

A grin stretched my lips involuntarily. “I like these.”

Her eyes smiled but her lips didn’t. “You’re such a liar.”

“Okay, you caught me. I’ve never had them before. But I’ll give them a shot.”

“I guess bringing nothing was better than bringing something in this case.”

“Knock it off.” My hand moved to her waist and I pulled her into the apartment. “Thank you for bringing them. Honestly.”

She moved into my side naturally. “At least you aren’t a jerk about it.”

“When am I ever a jerk?” I looked down into her face.

“Never.” She grabbed the canned margaritas and moved to the kitchen, leaving my embrace.

I hadn’t even realized I was touching her until she moved away.

“It smells good in here.”

I came behind her then stirred the vegetables. “Everything is almost ready.”

“How can I help?”

“You can’t,” I said. “Actually, you can set the table.”

“Good. I need to do something other than bring cheap booze.” She opened the cabinets and pulled out the plates and silverware.

I removed everything from the oven and stove. The chicken came out perfectly, juicy and moist, and the potatoes were thoroughly cooked. I carried the dishes to the kitchen table then returned to grab the box of margaritas.

Aspen smirked when she spotted them. “Are we seriously going to drink those?”

I looked at the box. “They’re mango flavored.”

She laughed then sat across from me. The table faced the window so there was a view of the skyline. “Your apartment is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I served the food for both of us then began to eat.

“How long have you lived here?”

“For a few years.”

“It would be hard to leave this place.”

“I bought it, actually.”

“Oh cool,” she said. “It’s hard to find good apartments for sale. They’re usually sold within minutes after they go on the market.”

“I got lucky.”

She ate elegantly, like someone trained to eat with grace at diplomatic work parties. “Everything tastes really good. I didn’t realize you were a chef.”

“Thank you. I know how to throw together a few things. Beyond that, I’m pretty clueless.”

“Well, you’re off to a good start.” She ate most of her plate then grabbed a can. “I want to see just how bad these things are.” She opened it then took a sip. Her face contorted into different expressions until she nodded. “Not bad.”

I opened one and took a sip. “I’m actually impressed.”

She held her can up to mine. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” I clanked my can against hers then took a long drink.

She set hers down on the table then took a deep breath. “Whoa, those are strong.”

I eyed the can. “It’s eight percent...”

Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. “I’m a lightweight.”

“At least it’s cheaper for you to get drunk.” I finished one can then moved onto the next.

“Good thing I have no pride.” She finished her plate until there wasn’t a crumb left. “That was awesome.”

I was glad she liked my cooking. “Thank you.” She complimented me three times and I couldn’t think of another response.

She stayed in her seat then opened another can. “How many of these do you think you can down?”

“Until you get drunk?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“All of them,” I said bluntly. “And not even then.”

She chuckled. “My max is four.” She held the can to her lips and took a drink.

I eyed her nails. “Your nails look nice.”

“Thanks.” She held up both hands, and one set of nails was colorless. “Didn’t get a chance to finish both.”

I tried not to laugh. “It looks…cool.”

She eyed them. “I’m starting a fashion trend.”

“Teenagers all over the country will be following in your steps soon enough.”

“What an accomplishment,” she said sarcastically.

When I finished my sixth can, I pushed the box away. “I can’t drink anymore of that.” I laughed even though it wasn’t funny. The eight percent alcohol was getting to me.

She pushed hers away too. “That’s enough mango for one night. Good thing we had dinner first.”

“Okay…they are pretty bad.”

Her eyes sparkled in amusement, obviously not offended the drinks weren’t a hit. “Harper brought them over one night and I was too lazy to throw them away.”

“Harper brought them…sure.” There was a teasing tone to my voice.

She kicked me playfully under the table. “Classy girls like me don’t drink margaritas from a can.”

“And what do they drink?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Beer?”

I laughed for the zillionth time that night. “If your father saw you drink beer, he would call you a dyke again.”

She covered her face and laughed. “Ohmygod, he would.”

“Do you need some water to wash down all the mango?”

“No, I’m okay,” she said. “But thank you.”

“So…Criminal Minds?” I asked.

“The sun is gone,” she said. “We can’t watch it now.”

“But there’re two of us. So it’s okay.”

“I’ll never be able to walk home in the dark after watching that…”

“I’ll walk you home,” I said immediately. I was going to offer anyway.

“I don’t know…”

“I have a bat under the couch,” I said. “Does that help?”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, I think I can handle it.”

We left the kitchen table then moved to the leather sofas. We sat beside each other as I turned on the TV. Her knees were pulled to her chest like that would give her extra protection. “I hope the victim is a dude,” she whispered.

“Then I’ll be scared,” I said.

“Well, it can’t be a girl.”

“Maybe they can have the victim be an alien,” I said. “Then no one would be scared.”

“Did you know some of these are based off of true cases?”

I swallowed the pretend lump in my throat. “No…”

“See? It’s terrifying.”

“We’ll be fine, Aspen.” I patted her thigh absentmindedly then returned my hand to my lap.

We watched the show in silence, and Aspen only flinched once. When the credits rolled and the show ended, she relaxed.

“That wasn’t so bad,” I said.

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed. “But I probably would have been terrified if you weren’t here.”

“Remember, I box. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“True.” She was quiet for a moment before she checked her watch. “I should probably go. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

I was sad to see her go but I didn’t say it. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Are you a night owl or a morning person?” she asked.

“Night owl,” I said immediately. “It’s when I come alive.”

“I’m the opposite,” she said. “Like an old woman, if I don’t go to bed by a reasonable time, I’m grouchy.”

“Well, we’re usually out until midnight.”

“Midnight is usually when I go to bed.”

“You’re the only old woman I know who has a bedtime that late,” I teased.

She grabbed her purse and stopped when she reached the kitchen. “Should we just toss those?”

“That’s a good idea,” I said. “My boys would tease me mercilessly if they saw those in my refrigerator.”

“Wouldn’t blame them.”

On the way out, I dumped them in the trash shoot and walked back to her apartment. She walked close to me, peering into the shadows.

I watched her, amused. “No one is going to kill us, Aspen.”

“You don’t know that. It’s best to be on alert.”

“You got me for protection,” I said. “So, you’re safe.”

She moved closer into my side.

When we reached her apartment, I walked her to the door. “Thanks for coming over for dinner.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, and her eyes flashed in an emerald color. They were captivating and alluring. Sometimes I couldn’t stop staring at them. “You’re a great cook.”

“Thanks. You’re a great guest…the margaritas aside.”

She chuckled, and like always, it sounded beautiful. “I’ll bring something better next time.”

I was glad she assumed there would be a next time. “Bringing yourself is enough.”