Billionaires Don't Like Nice Girls (A BWWM Romance) (11 page)

“I don’t mind it. What’s next for you after the sale? Early retirement?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe games this time. Not bloody games. Smart games that challenge kids and adults both. Something like that.”

“Fascinating. Tell me more.”

“No, Phae. That won’t work. I want to know … what’s your favorite color?”

“Blue, like your eyes. What’s yours?”

“Brown of course, like your eyes. What’s your favorite food?”

“I have too many favorites to pick. You?”

“Lasagna,” he answered quickly. “Do you like it?”

“Love it,” she said.

“Good. When I get back from San Diego, I’ll come over to your place and cook lasagna for you on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to leave your hair down. I want to see it down and untamed.”

“Hmm. I might do it.”

“I love your honesty. It’s a deal,” he said. He gently raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “We need to think of a story to tell James when we get back.”

Phae mumbled a reply but didn’t listen to what he said. She was too busy mulling over his comment about her honesty.

She hadn’t been completely truthful about what happened in Chicago. And she certainly hadn’t told him about being Captain Nice Guy. He wouldn’t be pleased about that particular bit of information.

She didn’t want to think about it. It was too soon to worry about confessions and the future.

“Phae? Are you listening? I said we should tell James that we were at the ag barns.”

“Right,” she answered quickly. “Ag barns.”

She admired Kent’s handsome profile as they stepped back into the lights of the carnival. She left her worries behind, in the darkness.

Chapter 10

KENT CHECKED HIS SPEED AS he neared the city limits of Zeke’s Bend. He stifled a yawn. It was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

He probably shouldn’t have rushed his return from San Diego, but the meeting with the buyers had lasted nearly two days longer than he’d expected and he’d been impatient to return home to Phae.

He’d called her on Wednesday to tell her that he’d see her Friday. She’d been strangely distant on the phone, not her usual sassy self. He’d texted her, too, but her responses were terse. She said she didn’t like texting.

He flattered himself by assuming that she was only disappointed by his delay, but truthfully, he guessed her reserve had been caused by second-guessing what had happened between them at the fair.

It had been hard to focus on the details of the sale because he’d kept daydreaming about Phae under the trees, dappled moonlight playing on her satiny skin.

It was as if he could still see, taste, touch and smell her. And hear her gentle moans when he made her come.

Damn. He was hard again. The woman had put some kind of spell on him. They hadn’t known one another long, or spent much time together, but he knew a winner when he saw one. And he wasn’t about to let this particular winner go.

While Kent’s career lay grounded in modern science and technology, his heart and mind remained open to a more mystical side of life. He believed in love at first sight.

His own parents were perfect examples that instantaneous love could happen, and more importantly, could last. They’d been married for over thirty-seven years, yet had only known one another for a month when they sealed their union.

Kent wanted what his parents had, and he’d been waiting for his perfect woman his entire adult life.

Just when he thought he’d never find her, Phae Jones had appeared. In his eyes, she embodied perfection. Beauty, brains and wit with a fiery, passionate side. And she was proud, confident, lusty. Oh hell yes. Lusty.

Her honesty about her attraction to him worked like an aphrodisiac. He didn’t like coy women, or those who were out of touch with their physicality. He liked women who knew what they wanted, and he especially liked that Phae wanted him.

He could barely concentrate on the road when he recalled the way Phae had responded to him at the fair.

As he drove down the quiet streets of Zeke’s Bend, he contemplated dropping by Phae’s apartment. He glanced at the gift box on the passenger seat. He could use the present as an excuse to see her.

No, it was late, and she had undoubtedly gone to bed hours ago. He shouldn’t wake her.

He grinned as he wondered what her response would be to his gift. He’d searched through more than a few boutiques in San Diego looking for the consummate little black dress. The box held the sexy fruit of his labors.

He laid his plans. Tomorrow morning he would drop by Phae’s shop and give her the present. She’d probably put up a fuss about him trying to clothe her, but Kent had confidence he could goad her into wearing the dress.

And hey, if the dress was a little too small, he couldn’t be blamed. After all, he was a man, and what did men know about dress sizes? His deep, throaty chuckle rumbled in the quiet car.

He pictured himself hand-feeding her a bite of lasagna. Maybe a drop of sauce would drip off the fork onto her luscious cleavage which would undoubtedly be spilling over the top of the oh-so-little black dress.

He’d be less than a gentleman if he didn’t clean up his mess. But wait. Where had his napkin gone? Oh well, when faced with life’s little challenges, one must improvise. His tongue could clean up the spill quite nicely.

He wore a wicked grin. Maybe Phae hadn’t gone to bed yet. He could drive by quickly and see if her lights were on. He turned the car down the next street, in the direction of Phae’s home.

He was less than two blocks away and had been wondering if Phae owned a pair of high heels when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some shaking bushes over to his left. It was a windless night. He slowed to a near crawl.

Less than six feet away from the porch of a fine old house, the bushes fronted the sidewalk which ran the length of the residential street. A streetlight adequately lit the scene, but the depths of the shrubbery remained in shadows.

He stopped the car and waited a few moments. Nothing moved. It had probably been an animal.

He eased his foot onto the accelerator. Then he saw it. A man. Dressed all in black, including a stocking cap.

The back of his body was illuminated for a split second as he leapt gracefully from behind the bushes then disappeared into the shadows at the side of the house. Kent briefly considered chasing the man, but knew it would be pointless.

He’d just seen the elusive Captain Nice Guy.

He couldn’t believe his luck. And he had no doubt whatsoever that the man he’d seen was indeed Captain Nice Guy and not a burglar.

The man had a bulky belt around his waist, probably filled with the tricks of his do-gooder trade. A town the size of Zeke’s Bend wouldn’t attract someone the caliber of a pro cat burglar.

Kent drove away rapidly, desperately hoping that Phae would be awake so he could share what he’d seen. And James. He’d have to tell James tomorrow. The sheriff would be thrilled to get a description of the man, even if that description was basic at best.

Kent recalled what he’d seen to burn it into his memory.

The man had been average to shorter than average in height. He wore a black stocking cap with some kind of strap around it. His long-sleeved shirt and pants were also black. He was thin and had leapt with panther-like agility. Kent had been unable to make out his face.

Kent turned into the alley that ran behind Phae’s shop, knowing her apartment was in the rear of the building.

He drove past slowly. All was dark, her lights off. He’d have to wait until tomorrow to tell his story. The little black dress would have to wait as well.

He was half-amused to find himself disappointed. And he liked that Phae was the first person he wanted to tell. He pulled out of the alley and headed toward his aunt’s house.

Captain Nice Guy. He’d spotted him. The brief scene of the man’s leap replayed itself over and over in his mind.

He’d nearly reached his aunt’s house when he sensed that something he’d seen wasn’t quite right. The more he thought about it, the more the leaping man seemed familiar.

Something in the picture jogged his memory, but he didn’t know what it was.

He pulled into Miss Eugenia’s driveway and was pleased to see that she’d left the porch light on for him. Kent had called her from San Diego to tell her that he’d be getting back late and she’d been so excited about his return that he felt guilty for not visiting more often.

He turned off the car and sat quietly. Captain Nice Guy. Something familiar. What could it be?

He closed his eyes and froze the mental image of the leaping man. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Black cap. Thin.

Very long legs, especially for a man.

The pants had stretched taut across his butt as he jumped—Kent inhaled sharply and his eyes flew open.

It couldn’t be.

He shook his head. He had to be wrong. The idea was ridiculous. And yet, hadn’t he kept his mind open to the possibility that Captain Nice Guy might be a woman?

Yes, a woman. Any woman other than Phae Jones. Not her.

Think logically, he told himself. What were the facts?

There truly weren’t any facts other than a lusciously rounded ass. Did men’s asses look like that? He didn’t know; he’d never looked.

He recalled his encounter with the do-gooder in Miss Eugenia’s garden. There was a floral scent surrounding his attacker when Kent was tied up. At the time, he thought it must be from the flowers in the garden.

Phae wore a floral perfume at the fair. Were the two scents the same? He couldn’t be certain. His memory of the events on that embarrassing night in his aunt’s back yard was clouded by being nearly unconscious at the time.

What had the captain said to him? “Hey you.” No, that wasn’t it. “Hey buddy.” That was it. Buddy.

Phae had called him buddy numerous times. He’d noticed because she’d called both him and James buddy when she was getting angry. It was a common word, though. Circumstantial evidence at best.

In fact, all the evidence Kent could muster against Phae hardly stood a chance of being considered circumstantial.

He flashed on an image of Phae gracefully shooting the basketball at the fair and on her fluidly jogging out of Miss Eugenia’s garden the first day he met her.

They’d been talking about Captain Nice Guy. Kent had said he might be a woman. Phae had raced away like her fine ass was on fire.

Kent reached for the keys still hanging in the ignition.

KENT TURNED OFF HIS HEADLIGHTS when he pulled into the alley behind Phae’s shop. He drove slowly in the moonlight and switched off the motor before getting too close to her driveway. He coasted to a halt.

Kent thought the vein in his forehead might pop wide open when he saw Phae’s lights were on.

He warned himself to remain calm and not condemn her out of hand. She could be awake for any number of reasons. He picked up the present sitting on the passenger’s seat.

He walked up to her place and knocked gently. He heard feet crossing the floor.

“Who is it” Phae called through the door.

He tried to sound casual. “It’s Kent. Can I come in?”

“Kent?” She sounded surprised. The porch light came on. “Wait a sec. I need to get some clothes on.”

He heard her running away. While he waited, he stepped back a few yards and surveyed the building.

It only had one story and wasn’t particularly wide, though it was deep, with the shop in front and the apartment in back. The apartment had to be small. He disliked the idea of her living there; she deserved to live in a palace, not in a cubby hole in a building that, at best, could be considered past its prime.

But the paint was in good shape and the tiny yard was well-kept. Certainly the store front on the other side was in good repair and looked as nice as the rest of the businesses on the quaint street. He would have expected nothing less from Phae.

He frowned. She certainly was taking her time. Surely all she needed to do was throw on a robe … unless she had on her Captain Nice Guy gear.

If Phae were guilty, she probably wouldn’t have had enough time to return home and change clothes in the ten minutes or so since he’d seen her, or since he’d seen someone he hoped wasn’t her.

He waited impatiently. The minutes seemed interminably long. Finally, he heard her approaching. She opened the door.

Phae barely glanced at Kent as she motioned for him to enter. “Sorry it took so long. Come on in.”

When Kent saw her standing there in a long terrycloth robe, he felt certain his suspicions had been correct. “Thanks.”

He glanced around the minuscule living room. An empty doorway opened onto a darkened hallway on the left and another empty doorway on the right side of the facing wall opened onto a small kitchen.

Only a few pieces of furniture filled the living room. An old, lumpy-looking sofa stretched the length of one wall and an easy chair with faded brown upholstery sat beside the door. No pictures hung on the walls. In fact, the decor could best be described as extremely sparse.