Indulgence (42 page)

Excitement and dread took over my thoughts in equal parts.
What if she didn’t like me? What if she made Hank go back home? He held his
mother on a pedestal, something I was completely unaccustomed to.

My mother was an evil she-devil who didn’t deserve more than
a fleeting thought. He doted on his mother and talked about her as if she were
made of sugar and spice and everything nice. I pictured a Mary Poppins type. A
real do-gooder. I was doomed.

Oliver entered my office. “I’ve got reservations at
Bellissimo scheduled for seven for the three of you. Are you ready to meet
Hank’s mother?”

“Not really. What if she hates me?”

“Pen, seriously? She’s not going to hate you.” He started
messing with my hair, wrapping locks around his fingers to refresh the curls.
Hank liked it best when he could run his fingers through my hair, so it was
down. I’d been wearing it down a lot more lately. I loved having Hank’s hands on
me and would go great lengths to make sure he did as often as possible.

“You don’t know that. My own mother hates me!”

“Your mother is a stuck up bitch. She doesn’t even like
herself.” We both smiled, knowing that his words held a great deal of truth.

I leaned against my desk chewing my lip until it hurt. A
headache was starting at my temples and I rubbed at it uselessly.

“You’re really worried?” His voice held a twinge of
surprise.

“Yes, I am.” I took a deep breath. “Hank adores his mother.
If she doesn’t like me, there’s no hope for us.”

“I can’t believe that. Honey, you don’t give yourself enough
credit. You’re beautiful, obscenely rich, and most importantly, Hank loves
you,” he finished.

“Shut your mouth! He doesn’t love me. He loves fucking me.
Big difference!” The words flew from my mouth, but even I didn’t believe them a
hundred percent.

“Pen, he does, too. He’s been living in your home for what,
five weeks now? Sleeping in your bed. You’ve spent every single free moment
together.” His eyebrows knit together. “You owe me for that one by the way. And
at the end of the day, you’ve never been happier.” He tipped my chin until my
eyes met his. “The cowboy loves you. You’d better accept that and start taking
responsibility for it. And, you need to tell him.”

“I have nothing to give a man like him.”

“You have everything to give and his love to gain. He’s not
Grant. He’s not going to screw you over. He’s Hank the Hunk. A fucking cowboy
from Texas. I should be so lucky!”

“You have Dean, asshat!”

“You’ve got a point. I do have Dean and … mmm, he’s yummy.”
He looked off into the distance with one of his dreamy-eyed stares.

“I’m just not used to feeling nervous about meeting the
family. In my past relationships, their families knew my family and my
reputation spoke for itself. With Hank’s mom, she doesn’t know me from Adam.” I
sunk into my leather office chair and banged my head on the desk.

Oliver rubbed my back and shoulders and pulled me up. “Stop
that, you’ll leave a mark,” he laughed. “Look, you’re going to be great. Let
your beauty and sparkling personality win her over. It did for me. You had
nothing but frizzy hair and a trust fund when we met, and I just knew I had to
share a life with you.”

“Thank you, Ollie.” Tears pooled at the corner of my eyes
and I used the pad of my ringer fingers to stop the flow. The last thing I
wanted was to look like a raccoon when I met his mom.

“Yeah well, who else was going to fix that mop of hair and
burn your scrunchies?” He mock shivered and pretended to vomit.

“Oh, cut it out. I wasn’t that bad.”

He looked at me pointedly, eyebrows sky high.

“Okay, maybe I was.”

We finished up the day focusing solely on business. I texted
Hank to ensure that he was ready.

To: Hank Jensen

Dinner’s at 7:00 at Bellisimo. Is she here?

From: Hank Jensen

Precious cargo arrived. We’ll meet you there, Angel.

Of course my five o’clock meeting ran late. I hadn’t
notified Hank, but I was meeting with Grant and his lawyers about the incident
at the estate last weekend. After a week of legal hell, I was prepared to offer
the bastard a settlement. I didn’t want any of this to get between Hank’s
healing or his excitement over his mother coming.

My lawyer, Nathaniel Walker, was a shrewd businessman with a
lovely British accent, and he was easy on the eyes. We’d actually been
introduced and went on a couple dates a few years ago. Nothing more than a
chaste kiss ever occurred; we realized that we were better suited to a
friendship and professional relationship than a romantic one.

With Nate, there just wasn’t a spark. Initially he had
hounded me mercilessly for months to get me to agree to the first date. Now he
was using the mercilessness to save me a few hundred thousand dollars on a
mistake I wish I’d never made.

Grant was being utterly ridiculous. He wanted to hurt me and
he was using his legal arms in an attempt to batter and embarrass me. With Nate
on my side, he wouldn’t win. Stone, Walker & Associates were known for
their success rates, not their losses.

We left the meeting having not come to an agreement. Grant
officially wanted to press charges, but was holding back, waiting to see what
I’d offer him.

“God, he’s such a creep! I can’t believe I ever thought I
loved him. What the hell was I thinking?” I rubbed at my eyes as Nate and I
headed toward the elevator.

“’Creep’ sure does fit the bill. Don’t worry though, love.”
He gripped my shoulder and squeezed it. “Before long, I’ll have his arse in a
sling,” he said with conviction and a wicked hot British accent.

“Oh, Nate, I believe you. If anyone can get past his bull,
it will be you and Collier. How is your brother, anyway?”

His brother was also a fine specimen of the opposite sex.
Good-looking, smart, very kind eyes. And he had the charming British accent
that made women melt on the spot. Though as of late, it was a Southern accent
that made my panties drop.

Nate walked me to my limo and opened the door. “Can I drop
you anywhere?” I asked him.

“Maybe. You up or downtown?”

“Up.”

“Brilliant! I’d fancy a lift then. Thank you, love.”

Nathaniel Walker was a good guy, charming, with movie star
looks. I wondered why he was still single. “Nate, you seeing anyone?”

He waggled his eyebrows and his mouth turned into a sexy
grin. “Is that an invitation?” he joked.

“You know it’s not. I’m just curious. What’s a single guy,
good-looking, British no less, doing without a beautiful bombshell on his arm?”

“Just because there’s not one on my arm right this moment
doesn’t mean there isn’t one,” he chided.

“Oh! I’m sorry. You’re right.”

He laughed. “No, you’re dead on, love. I’m not officially
seeing anyone. Just dating here and there. Pretty busy to find the right bird,
as it were.”

“Bird?”

“A lady friend. We Brits often call our women birds,” he
clarified.

“You Brits are strange.”

“No more strange than you Yanks! Here men call their ladies
by terrible names in comparison. I hear ’my bitch’ or ‘my old lady’ constantly.
Can’t fathom that a woman would rather be addressed as a bitch or old versus a
lovely bird in any context.”

I rolled around his logic. “Good point. Bird it is.”

We both laughed. I leaned over and poured myself two fingers
of scotch.

“Whoa, love. That’s a lot for a little thing like you.”

“Liquid courage.” I hesitated and took a sip, letting the
alcohol warm my belly and calm my nerves.

“Aspen, darling, you’ve never been afraid of anything in the
few years we’ve known each other. Would you care to share?”

“My significant other’s mother is coming to town for the
first time.”

“Ah, I see. Say no more. My mum would interrogate any woman
I brought home. Just be yourself. And if that doesn’t work, buy her a car.” He
grinned wickedly.

I smacked him on the shoulder and laughed with him.

My stop was first and with the best of manners, Nate got out
and helped me out of the car and gave me a hug. Then he kissed both cheeks, slid
his hands down my arms to clasp my hands, squeezing them. “You’ll do great, my
love.” He lightly kissed my forehead.

I smiled up at him and turned away. My nose bumped into a
solid mass.
Ouch!
I could recognize that manly scent mixed with citrus
anywhere. I looked into the smoldering green eyes of my cowboy. His jaw was
clenched and his gaze glacial.

“Who’s your friend, Angel?”

It took me a moment to comprehend his question, so taken
aback by the electricity and anger I felt sizzling off him. Nate heard the
question and immediately introduced himself.

“You must be the significant other she mentioned in the car.
‘Right-hook Hank’!” Nate put out his hand and Hank’s eyebrows knit together,
his eyes scrunching into tight points. “I’m Nathaniel Walker, Aspen’s friend
and attorney. It’s good to meet you.”

Hank shook his hand. “Right-hook Hank? That’s a first. Hank
Jensen.” He seemed to relax a little. His arm came around my shoulders and I
burrowed into his side. “I wanted to be outside when you arrived so that you
knew where to find our table.” His eyes softened as he looked into mine.

“Right-o, well then, mate, I best be on my way. We’ll have
to get together sometime.” I nodded and Hank just hugged me tighter to his
chest. “Cheers.”

Seeing that man’s hands on Aspen had me fit to be tied. “I
don’t care for another man’s hands on my woman.” The tension was building
within me and I was not capable of stopping it until I had my answers. With a
hand on her waist I ushered her into the restaurant.

“Hank, don’t be silly. He’s my lawyer and an old friend.
There’s nothing between us.” She tried to assure me unconvincingly. In a short
time, I knew my angel well enough to know she was holding something back.

“Have you slept with him?” I had to know if that man had put
his paws on my girl.

“No!” she half-whispered, half-yelled.

“Ever date him?” I don’t know why I was choosing to torture
myself but he had his hands on her. He was a good-looking man and he seemed way
too familiar with her. She groaned.

“Yes, two dates. Enough to realize we were never going to be
anything more than friends.” She sighed and searched my eyes.

“Did he kiss you?” She stopped dead in her tracks and I knew
the answer.

“Can we not do this now?”

I gripped her chin and held her gaze. “Answer the question?”

“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “Technically, yes we’d
kissed … once! It felt like kissing my brother. Happy?”

“Not especially. Your lips are mine now. I don’t want anyone
ever getting to taste the pleasure of what’s mine.” With that I cupped her face
in both of my hands. “You got it?”

She stared intently, her gray-blue eyes swirling. I saw the
very moment she understood. Her eyes closed and a slow breath left her lips.
God, she was so beautiful. “Hank … ” she started but I stopped her with my
lips. She tasted like honey and cherry lip gloss.

She sighed into my mouth and I dipped my tongue in tasting
her more fully. I could feel people walking past us and I didn’t care. I kissed
my angel like it was my meal ticket. Like a good, solid day’s work. She returned
my kiss with a ferocity I didn’t expect. My hand went down and cradled her ass,
pulling her up and against me. She moaned. Damn, she was perfect. She pulled
away first, her eyes a deep blue now.

“That’s more like it, Stud.”

Damn, I loved when she called me that. It made my heart warm
and my dick hard. I couldn’t wait to get her back home.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she chastised.

I smiled, “Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking of all the naughty things you’re going
to do to me.”

I cupped and squeezed her ass pecking her on the lips one
more time. “You know me too well, Darlin’.”

“Come on Hank, your Mom is waiting.”

Holy shit!
“I damn near forgot! Shit!” I pushed her
on into the room where my mother was happily rearranging the centerpiece
flowers. Her eyes jumped up and she smiled when she saw me. “Mom, this here is
Aspen Reynolds.”

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Jensen.” Aspen reached her hand
out but my mother jumped out of her chair and threw her arms around her.

“Just call me Julia or Mom, everyone does!”

“Thank you, Julia. My friends call me Pen.” Aspen returned
the hug and moved away.

I pulled out my mother’s seat and then Aspen’s.

We ordered drinks and stuffed mushrooms to start. I let
Aspen choose the wine since she actually knew something about the stuff.

Out of nowhere the most beautiful words came out of my
Angel’s mouth directed at our waiter. “
Ci piacerebbe avere vino rosso questa
sera. Che cosa mi consiglia?
”

My mother and I looked on in awe as Aspen spoke to the
waiter in fluent Italian ordering the wine.

“Angel? You speak Italian?” I know my smile was as
infectious as my mom’s, who also couldn’t hold back her own surprise.

“I do. Spanish, French, and a touch of German, as well,” she
smiled. I looked at her, completely astonished. “What?” she grinned.

“You amaze me, Angel.”

“In my line of work, I wouldn’t be able to speak to half of
the models and talent if I didn’t know enough of their languages. I mean, most
speak English, but it can be very hard to understand them. When I’m negotiating
a contract, I want them to be fully aware of what they are signing up for.”

“You’re so smart. I bet you have a great job!” My mother
gushed. “Who do you work for?”

“I do.” She answered without finishing.

“Don’t be shy, Darlin’. Tell Ma here what you do.” I was proud
of my girl and wanted her to be proud of herself, too.