Betrayed by Love (11 page)

Jen woke me just after nine the next morning. She breezed into the room carrying a tray. “Time to rise and shine.”

I groaned and pulled the sheet over my head. “Go away.”

I heard her set the tray on the nightstand before she tugged the sheet from over my head. “Go make yourself decent and then we’ll share breakfast.”

I’d spent most of the night jolting awake from lustful dreams just as Grant was about to fuck me and now all I wanted was to sleep. “Go away.”

“Get up, girl.”

I grimaced at her and dragged myself from the bed, and went into the bathroom. When I emerged from a warm shower wearing a large towel, she sat propped up against the headboard sipping a cup of coffee.

I climbed into bed, inhaling the aroma of the dishes she uncovered. We shared a western omelet, a chunk of garlic bread, and a carafe of hot, milky coffee.

“Do you want to talk about Grant?” Jen asked.

I nodded, putting my coffee cup down. “Does he have a special lady in his life?”

“No.”

“I find it hard to believe he’s not seeing anyone.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t say he wasn’t dating. I said he’s not dating anyone special.”

“If he’s already dating, why did he ask me out?”

She gave me a wide–eyed stare. “Excuse me? Aren’t you dating and didn’t you accept his invitation?”

I grimaced. “I hate when you go all logical on me.”

She smiled. “He liked you, but then I knew he would.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I just knew. Did you like him?”

Jen’s “I just knew” didn’t really work for me but I knew her well enough to know pushing her to be more specific wouldn’t do any good. “He’s…he’s a hunk with a capital H,” I admitted.

She nodded. “He’s almost as hunky as Jarrod.”

Almost? I stared at her. I could see she was serious. And that made me feel better about her relationship with Jarrod. If she thought Jarrod was a bigger hunk than Grant, she was blinded by love with a huge capital L. I didn’t understand or appreciate the game she and Jarrod played, but they seemed happy together.

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Almost.”

Just as we finished the carafe of coffee the phone rang. Jen lifted the cordless phone off her waist holster, glanced at the screen, smiled, and passed the phone to me. “Guess who?”

My cheeks flushed and I felt flustered as I took the cordless phone. I pressed the talk button and placed the phone against my ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Linea. This is Grant.”

“Hi.”

“This meeting is running a little longer than I expected. I don’t foresee being able to pick you up before one o’clock. That means it’ll probably be two before we eat. Is that okay?”

“Yes, but I’m sure I can borrow Jen’s car and meet you somewhere if that will make things easier for you.” I glanced at Jen, who nodded.

“Thanks, but unless you’re dead set against it, I prefer to pick up my dates.”

Call me old–fashioned, but I’m down with a man who wants to treat me like I’m worth expending time and energy over. “Oh. Okay. Fine.”

“Great. I’ll call you when I’m on my way, Linea.”

“Okay.”

“Say hello to the girls for me.”

I smiled and ended the call before I said something impetuous like admitting how much the three of us were looking forward to seeing him again. Actually, there were four of us, if I counted my aching coochie.

Jen took the phone. “What are you going to wear?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just lunch.”

Jen scrambled off the bed. “It’s a first date. You have to dress to impress.” She turned around, a frown on her face. “Actually, I think you’ve already impressed, but let’s just make sure you dress to re–impress. What do you have that’s sexy as hell and would make him have to pick his jaw up off the floor when he arrives to pick you up?”

I got out of bed, shaking my head. “I don’t know that I want to go out of my way to impress him.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you?”

“For one I live in L.A. He lives here.”

Jen parted her lips, seemed to reconsider, and closed her mouth.

I paused, arching a brow. “What?”

She shook her head. “You were about to give me another reason why you don’t want to dress to impress him.”

What was she holding back? “I’m not interested in a long distance relationship.”

“Some men are worth making the effort to keep a long distance relationship going.”

“He’s a hunk, but not so hunky I want to date him from across the country. So I can’t see the point in going out of my way to impress him.”

Jen tilted her head, her eyes squinted. “Do you have that out of your system?”

I frowned at her.

“Good,” she said, as if I’d actually answered her. “Let’s pick out something sexy and low–cut that shows off that rack of yours.”

I rolled my eyes. “The girls don’t like being called a rack.” At least not by another woman. Grant calling them a rack would be a whole different ballgame.

“Whatever.” She laughed and walked to the closet. “You look great in pastels. Did you bring anything bright and colorful with you?”

Since she was clearly on a mission, I decided it would be easier to let her have her way. I joined her at the closet. We spent the next fifteen minutes arguing over what I’d wear.

Grant called again at 12:45. “I know this is a bad way to begin a first date, but this is an important deal and I really can’t break away for at least another hour or so. We’re having a short break now. Please tell me we can do dinner instead.”

I think the disappointment I felt at the thought of not seeing him for several hours instead of fifteen minutes or so, was my first inkling of just how big an impression he’d made on me.

“Ah…sure. We can do dinner or we can cancel if—”

“No. I’ll wrap this up and make dinner. I’ll call you soon.”

“Okay.”

An hour and a half later the phone rang again. Jen and I were lying out by the pool after eating a light lunch. Jen glanced at the caller I.D., grinned, and passed the phone to me.

It was clearly Grant. Hopefully he wasn’t calling to cancel our date. “Hello?”

“Hi, Linea. It’s Grant. The meeting has finally concluded. “

I suppressed a sigh of relief. “Successfully?”

“Yes.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks. I feel like I earned it and now deserve a reward.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“See you. How else?”

I felt this incredibly wide smile spreading across my face. “If nothing else, you’re clearly a man with exquisite taste.”

He laughed. “I’d like to pick you up at six o’clock tonight.”

“How shall I dress?”

 
“Nothing too fancy. “

“Casual?”

“Yes, but not sweat suit casual, Linea.”

Damn I liked the way he said my name. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.”

“Until six.”

“Until then.” I ended the call and handed Jen the phone.

To my surprise, she didn’t ask any questions. We talked about everything for the next hour and a half but my upcoming date with Grant.

At four o’clock, I returned to the guest bedroom and spent half an hour soaking in my favorite bath salts. As I did, I made an effort to keep my thoughts off Grant and the coming night.

I spent another half hour trying to decide if I still wanted to wear the outfit Jen and I had finally agreed on earlier. I settled on a two–piece peach silk dress with a scoop–neck bodice that clung to, but completely concealed my breasts. The dress had short sleeves and a swirling skirt that ended just below my calves. I slipped on a pair of two–inch dark mauve sandals, sprayed myself with my favorite scent, and picked up the matching clutch.

Satisfied with my appearance, I left the guestroom twenty minutes before Grant was due to arrive. I came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the living room. There was no sign of either Jen or Jarrod, but Grant stood looking out onto the patio.

Chapter Six

He must have seen my reflection in the patio doors because he immediately turned. Damn he looked handsome in a dark suit and open–neck white shirt.

Smiling, he quickly crossed the room to stand just inches from me.

“You’re early,” I blurted out.

“I was eager to see you.” He reached down to brush the back of his hand against mine.

A jolt of electricity danced down my spine. I flashed him a quick smile and glanced around the room. “Where are Jen and Jarrod?”

“They’re in the kitchen checking on dinner.”

“Both of them?”

He nodded, a smile curving his lips. “As subtle as ever, huh?”

I laughed. “Super subtle.”

“Would you like a drink?”

Alcohol would only lower my inhibitions and I wasn’t sure I wanted that. “No. Thanks.”